


An Unexpected Arrival

by Katapultman



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 01:13:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15938690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katapultman/pseuds/Katapultman
Summary: A lost child finds a new life amongst complete, but oddly accepting strangers. Join in as mysteries are solved, friendships are formed and secrets are unraveled - all simultaneously preparing to face one ultimate test of strength and fortitude. Takes place before the series, but will soon follow it. Chapters might have a few unintentional mistakes at first upload.





	1. The Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> A/N - Hello, everyone! My name is Katapultman and if you decided to click onto this first page then that means you'll bear witness to my first ever fanfiction! Due to my love for the show, I've had this idea lingering around for years on end, but I never got to writing it, so when push came to shove, I decided I ought to finally try and write a fanfiction about GF. I have also decided to create an AO3 version of my work so I can get insights from here as well (aka this version you are currently reading). Anyway, enough hearing me yammer about, enjoy the first chapter of a possible series!

It was a normal evening for Stanley Filbrick Pines - lounging in his usual armchair, watching the usual dull programs that aired on TV that night, and of course, wearing his usual evening attire – a white tank top, coupled with cyan shorts in symmetric white stripes topped off with a rather comfortable pair of slippers. Although barely paying even a slither of attention to the infomercials being broadcasted and looking more the style of a half-dead zombie, he ignored all of it because he was reminiscing about his days of normalcy - about the times when he had a family that loved him despite everything he was, when he took the memories that he now cherishes, the ones that, dare he think, keep him going in life, for granted. But most of all, he thought about his brother, whom he had always known as his other half. Stanley thought about every moment in which his brother had helped him cheat and lie his way through life and the sorrowful look he had always given him afterwards - a look he last saw on his expression before he was ripped from the world. Quickly snapping out of his hypnotic state, he cursed silently for letting himself daze off like that and briskly took off to the kitchen for refreshments. Sadly, that long relapse was also all-too familiar to Stan, for he has had many of them - some in vivid detail in dreams and others just out of the blue, even while he had worked. But he was sure that this night, like many others, was one he had been used to welcoming with the same apathetic and hopeless look every time. 

He had taken note of how heavily it was raining outside and proceeded to, with a clear glint of annoyance, remark its intensity. That was mainly due to the fact that that meant tomorrow he would have to take extra measures in order to attract business. He sighed his annoyance off and took a glass of water from the kitchen sink. Suddenly, as he was making his way back from the kitchen window, he heard a light knock on his house door. He slowly and silently walked to the door on his toes, though the latter not working as he had intended because of the weight gain he had suffered as a result of leading his relatively sedentary lifestyle. Nevertheless, when he was close enough to it, he carefully peered through the peephole and saw what appeared to be a small hooded figure. Although shown to be not too-trusting towards strangers, especially ones knocking on his door, he could not help but note the fact that the person was obviously a child.

With that in mind, he carefully pried open the door and revealed the said adolescent. What he took note of at first that wasn’t directly related to its stark for a child physique was the condition of its clothes - their ruggish and torn appearance made him even more suspicious of the child’s already dubious first impression upon him. He was startled by the creepish and sudden way it lifted its head to look upon him and the entrance of his house. Although not a person to easily experience embarrassment nor any form of shame, he did feel a little bad about having the kid’s first sight upon opening the door be an underdressed, relatively aged man.   
After looking upon Stanley for less than a second, it dashed back and fell clumsily to the ground. Stan had a feeling that odd reaction was based on the knee-jerk reactions that other people have had when they've had the misfortune of knocking on his doors at late hours. He saw it reflexively put up a hand before its face as if he was about to vehemently strike it, followed by the sound of a faint whimper coming from it. Distinguishing the pitch and the sound quickly, Stan deduced that the youth before him was a boy. 

“Oh, um..uh, I'm really sorry for b-bothering you s-sir. I just wanted t-to ask for d-directions,” he stuttered out. 

“Er, directions to where?” inquired Stan as he darted his eyes between the figure in front of him and the dark, now entirely wet, unwelcoming forest.

“Um.. a-a bus s-stop or t-town..? I'm sorry for taking your time and I promise I'll b-be out of your way, just...”

Stan pondered on what he should do for a moment. The thought of taking in a complete stranger sold it for him, but the odd similarities between the bits and pieces he was already starting to connect about this child's past and his own were hitting close to home, for his past - a past filled with misery, loneliness and dismay, was one he had hoped no one, not to mention a child, had the misfortune of even slightly sharing.

He sighed heavily. 

“Look, kid, I get you're lost. And trust me, neither a bus stop nor a town's gonna help ya, so.. why don't ya stay here for a night and we’ll sort this thing out tomorrow, eh?” offered Stan.

He looked bedazzled after having that suspiciously kind offer reach his ears.

“I… I'm not sure..” he muttered out. “I'd just give you trouble..”

“Frankly, kid, my whole establishment here reeks ’a trouble, so you're gonna be the least of my worries.” jokingly replied Stan.

“W-well...“ he trailed off. 

With that uncertain response, Stan’s impression that he was getting nowhere in easing the child’s frantic fears was now, more or less, true. As a last attempt at convincing him, he knelt down and grabbed both of his frail shoulders, determined to convince him. But before he uttered his words, he stopped. He looked him, for the first time, straight in the face and on his level. Only now did he realize why the child was so apprehensive beforehand - what Stanley saw was a face with pure terror written all over it. But he knew better, for had that been the case, he would have already ran away from him, so he was certain that something, whether it be his own will or some supernatural oddity, something was keeping him here.

Stan stared deeply into his eyes.

“Listen to me, kid. I don’t care if you don’t wanna stay here now, I ain’t letting you roam the forest alone, especially at this weather, only to have God knows what happen to ya. I can tell by your face that life ain’t been good on you, heck I can relate, but trust me, no one can get through it alone. I know I’m no one to ya, but I wanna help. And I mean it. But for that, I’m gonna need your trust, at least for now.” he finished as he steadily rose up.

“Heh..” he began. “It’s not like I have m-much of a choice, d-do I..?”

Stan saw his face slightly light up before seeping back into its now slightly less fearful catatonic state. With that, he gently nudged him into the doorway as he slowly closed the door. He lead him to the barely lit living room and gestured for him to sit on the old and decayed armchair while he leant on the doorframe.

“So, uh, make yourself at home..” awkwardly said Stan.

“Y-yeah, thanks.” he replied as he went to sit down.

Stan raised an eyebrow.

“You're lookin’ pretty worn out. Wanna eat something?” offered Stan.

“Oh,” he began as he piped up from the chair. “No, no. I’m.. good!”

“I can tell you're lying from a mile away, kiddo,” Stan smugly retorted. “So just.. I dunno, grab a bite to eat out of the fridge.”

Immediately after that, he noticed how perplexed he looked. 

“Alright, alright,” said Stan hastily as he tried to properly adapt to the situation at hand. “How ‘bout I, uh, leave this with you if ya get hungry during the night?” he ushered whilst tenderly holding a granola bar in one hand and a Pitt Cola he snagged from a nearby counter in the other.

“If.. you insist..” he answered while grabbing the bar rather forcefully and heading into the hall.

“Room’s up the stairway, to the right.”

He nodded as he started to proceed up the creaky steps of stairs. Halfway through his climb, he heard Stan’s muffled steps behind him and he turned to face him.

“Hey, uh, kid, one last thing. I wanted to know if we could properly meet. I’m Stan. Stanford Pines.” he stated by using his brother’s name as a pseudonym like he had done for thirty years now.

He hesitated before finally extending his small hand himself.

“I.. I'm, um, Matthew. Nice to meet you.” he stated as he faintly smiled.

“Alright, nice knowin’ ya. I'll leave you now.” Stan replied as he returned the slight smile.

With the empty can of Pitt Cola, Stanley retreated back to the kitchen to dispose of it. As he did so, he sat down on one of the chairs and slowly started contemplating on his decision earlier on with a more mature beverage this time at his side. Was it really sound to take in some random street child? What if he couldn't find out his origins and would have to decide what to do about him? What if something were to happen to him while he were under his watch? It felt unnerving, to say the least, to think about these possibilities. Yet he had to do something, but what?

Stanley felt something he hadn't felt in years - conflict. He knew the life of scamming and cheating gullible idiots daily had made him soft and complacent to an extent, but he didn't think it would have hindered his ability to distinguish from rational and clearly emotionally driven decisions. Had he trusted his instincts and ignored him when he was knocking on his door, he was certain that the child would have been lost even more or worse by now. But what if he had brought more trouble than worth by betraying his instincts? Stanley realised that he was close to relaying his thoughts on the outside, so in order to not bring himself to a nervous breakdown, he decided he'd just have to wait and see what fate has brought in store for him.

Having only drunk half of his beer, he swiftly whisked it away and put it into his secret hiding spot, away from any prying hands. Slowly making his way out of the kitchen, he went on to indulge in yet another fruitless hour-long research session in the lab after which he would proceed to keep up his unstable, but efficient six hour sleep regime, for he had the feeling that tomorrow was going to be a long and certainly not boring day.


	2. The First Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - As of publication of this chapter, the fanfiction has five chapters in total (hence why the quick uploading of the chapters.) Anyway, after that quick disclaimer out of the way, enjoy the chapter/s!

Stanley awoke from the ear-piercing sound of his old-fashioned alarm clock that sat on a small end table. He sluggishly bent his hand over to the other side of the bed and silenced it for good. Slowly standing up and rubbing his eyes, he silently remarked the atmosphere around him - dust permeated the air of the vacant room and a small triangle-shaped window illuminated only a slither of outside light. Putting his feet to his slippers, he rose up from the sturdy bed and walked over the creaky floorboards to the nearby bathroom. Whilst walking to it in silence, he thought about how old his brother's house really was - he wondered if he ought to renovate it or at least make it more comfortable for living purposes, though he decided against it in order to adhere to a weird sentimentality he held onto regarding the preservation of his brother's legacy. Mementos of his scientific journeys blended in with the various, equally surrealistic and crazy tourist attractions laid out for meager decoration purposes.

He reached the bathroom door and put his dry hand on the knob. Before he went in to do his sanitary duties, he noticed that Matthew was to the left of him, watching silently from the attic door. An uncomfortable silence befell the two. Before any of them broke it out, Stanley squinted his eyes as to get a better look at him since he didn't have the time yesterday and couldn't really see him now either. He noted some of the details of his face - heavy eye bags, reddish cheeks even some minor bruises that were badly covered up. His hair was of relatively medium length and had a distinct light brown hue, but the shape of his body had him thinking that he was some ten or fifteen pounds away from classifying for anorexia. He also bore a cyan coloured T-shirt, presumably medium or small size, that was embroidered with a yellow lightning bolt. Along with it, he had on him rugged and light brown pants that surprisingly fit him and a pair of black sneakers. After finishing his brief, but thorough inspection, he finally decided that he ought to say something.

"Uhh, kid," Stan began with a puzzled look. "Don't give me the creeps like that."

"S-sorry. I was just wondering if I could come out..." he replied with a fearful glance in his eyes.

"Err... why wouldn't ya?"

"Ï... uh... don't know?" he awkwardly uttered out.

"Okaay. Alright. I'll be, um, heading in. Go after me if ya want, though, heh."

"N-no, I'm, er, cool." Matthew replied after which he gave himself a mental facepalm for his poor choice of words.

Stan sighed.

"Alright then, suit y'aself."

Stanley turned the knob and entered the compact bathroom. As soon as he entered, he went over to the sink and looked at his glassy reflection. He deeply sighed and forcefully pinched his temple, having only just starting to think about the regretful mortifying encounter he had just had with his newfound acquaintance.

"God, what am I gonna do..."

He stood there for a few seconds, wondering how and when he'd get on with finding the kid's origins and as to how he'd help him. Child services and other various government institutions crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed them - he wasn't one to like said institutions nosing in over the credibility of his business. He had a bad feeling that he'd have to take on this predicament himself. That thought irked him - where would he even begin? Asking him direct questions was a possibility, but it wasn't a prudent one. Snooping around what little personal belongings he seemed to have also felt dirty, even for him.

As he was grabbing the toothbrush and pliers, it hit him. He realised that Matthew would obviously be distant had he questioned him as if he was on a judicial trial. Stan thought that maybe if he let him assimilate for a bit and give him time to get to know the residents of the town, he'd warm up and then he would be able to dig in and actively help him. With the sound plan in mind, he finally felt at ease and went on to resume the last of his morning bathroom rituals.

Stanley looked at the grandfather clock nearby - the time was 7:43 AM. He had an hour or so until he had to open up business for today, which he knew was plenty enough to eat breakfast, get dressed and even converse a bit with Matthew. He decided he'd best first go and clothe himself for the workday. In his room, he proceeded to, over his tank top, put on his favourite tacky suit, brandish his formal vagabond shoes, black pants and, of course, strap on his trademark fez, eyepatch and velvet coloured tie. Now proudly staring at his reflection, he went on to add the finishing touches to his grandiose appearance.

Returning back to the hall of the upper floor, he yet again took a gander at the clock and was a bit surprised as to how long he had apparently taken to dress. Shrugging it off and quickly snagging away his 8-ball cane from his room, he set out to do one last thing before officially opening the museum and gift shop - eat. He hastily descended the stairway and saw that Matthew was there, waiting for him yet again. This time though he felt as if he was more content than usual.

"Hey kid," began Stan with a smile on his face. "How's it hanging?"

"O...kay?" replied Matt with an inquisitive look. "What's it to you anyway..." he muttered out as well.

"Yeesh, sorry for even asking." retorted Stan, having now redacted his previous assumption that Matthew was doing better. "Anyway, there ain't a chance you're not hungry by now, so whaddya want?"

As Stan had previously anticipated, the only response he got back was a puzzled expression.

"Urh," he growled silently as he went on to pinch his temple yet again, only this time lifting his glasses slightly. "Alright, how 'bout I, uh, fix up some pancakes, eh?"

Matthew hesitated before saying anything. The immense kindness Stan had already given him was still far too suspicious for his taste. He told himself that he had his reasons for doubting such a person - everything about Stan seemed off to him. From the very beginning he didn't trust him, but due to his circumstances, he hadn't a choice and accepted his offer to stay a night in his run-down house. Although he did not wish to succumb to his influence, he couldn't withstand his tormenting hunger.

"Fine..." he finally answered.

"Hey, now that's the spirit!" Stan cheerfully remarked as he already began to head into the kitchen. "Don't worry, you're gonna love my Stancakes."

Matthew remained eerily silent as he autonomously followed Stanley to the kitchen table. He sat himself down and watched as Stan proceeded to grab the necessary kitchen utensils for cooking his culinary masterpiece. He was quite surprised when he seemed to illustrate a decent level of proficiency in cooking after doing a few amusing tricks with the ingredients. Matt decided he ought to suppress his hunger by looking around and taking in the not so breathtaking atmosphere. He noticed that, like in every room he's been so far in Stanley's house, the furniture was run down and damp. It certainly didn't help that the smell of a cheap stove cooking started to be more than inviting to his already salivating mouth as well. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to Matthew, Stanley finished the breakfast and proudly served it alongside the appropriate garnishments to the table. Despite the fact that Matt was famished, he didn't dare touch the food without Stan's permission. Stanley, already having served himself a sizeable plate, looked up to Matthew with a curious expression because of that.

"Hey, don't worry," Stan assured whilst singling out a piece from the huge stack on his plate. "the food ain't gonna bite."

"Y-yeah. Heh, I knew that..." he muttered.

"Well," he began, mouth full with an entire pancake. "Why's your plate still empty then?"

"Oh-er, yeah, I'll grab some." he responded uneasily. He went to cut out a sizeable stack out of the full plate and plop it down onto his. Not even five seconds passed after he sat down before he started piling up pancakes in his mouth.

Oddly enough, Stan found a certain sweetness in his behaviour. He didn't want to go soft on him, but he had to admit that being a subject to his flippant ways was charming, even when they made him feel awkward.

"How's the grub?" inquired Stan.

"Oh... it's really good." he answered with an appreciative smile in return.

"Ha!" loudly laughed Stan, nearly frightening Matthew. "Finally, someone that can lie straight to my face about my horrible cooking and actually make me believe it for a sec!"

Out of Stan's self-deprecating joke, he and Matthew both exchanged a good-hearted laugh. Stan was glad that he had managed to somehow get through to him even a tiny bit. Although he did not know why he did it before executing his plan - after all, he knew he was just going to have to deal with him at some point or another. As he was eating, Stanley thought that maybe he could manage to deal with him on his own and that the short interaction they just had was proof of that, that maybe he didn't need such a complex plan and that he ought to just let things flow by themselves. But then another possibility crossed his mind - one that would require an enormous amount of work and trust in order to even be considered. He wasn't even sure if wanted it, so he decided that he'd just wait and see what happens. From his endearing thought session, he didn't realise that he had already eaten every pancake he had on his previously full plate and yet was still continuing to dig in, although this time his fork was scratching the porcelain of the plate and producing an uncomfortable sound enough to get Matthew's attention.

"Umm..."

"Huh? Oh, sorry kid," Stan apologetically said. "just zoned out for a bit, no worry."

Stanley, with a painful groan, slowly got up from the rusty chair and went to grab his, as well as Matthew's now empty plate and retreated to the filthy kitchen sink. After a short washing, he put them back in one of the cupboards and turned around, only to see Matt still sitting on the chair.

"Hm, you still here?" asked Stan.

"Yeah..." he responded whilst looking at the floor and waddling his legs.

"Okay... I'mma go open up shop for the day." declared Stan. "But while I'm at it, you can talk with some of my employees that are comin' soon."

"I guess...?" he replied as he finally looked up to face him.

"Alright. And keep that chin up, kiddo." he told him after which he gave him an assuring wink.

Stanley ventured to the museum and started graciously setting up for the day, earnestly hoping that he wouldn't be distracted any further. He walked into the museum and saw that some of the exhibits were a bit off due to what he presumed was the inadequacy of the customers that ogled over them. As he slowly bent to lift one of the bigger ones up, he felt how sturdy the actual platform it was on was, which worried him a bit, but he shrugged it off, knowing that there are much more dangerous hazards he ought to keep contained. It took him a good ten minutes to move all of them, and in addition hammer down a sign on the entrance warning tourists to not touch the exhibits under penalty of death, but he was nonetheless satisfied with the condition of the museum. But before Stanley could do anything, he had to wait for his employees to come. Just as he walked into the gift shop and stood next to the vending machine, he saw Soos, his mechanic and best man, emerge from the front door.

"Good morning, Mr. Pines!" cheerfully greeted Soos.

"Yeah, yeah, you too," replied Stan with a disregarding wave. "Alright, I'm startin' in a few minutes, but I can't make money without Wendy on the cashbox."

"Hmm…" Soos thought intently. "Oh yeah! She said she's gonna run a bit late, like, five minutes."

"What?!" exclaimed Stan. "She's lucky I don't pay her much..."

"Err, Mr. Pines...?"

"Yeah?"

"Who's the little dude behind you?"

Stan quickly turned around only to find himself facing Matthew yet again. On one side, he was glad that he had finally decided to go out of his comfort zone and explore, but at the same time, he now had more problems to deal with. He knew he had to help establish a stable relationship between Soos and Matthew, but he knew that wouldn't be hard since both of them weren't the most sociable types.

"Er, Soos, meet Matthew. Matt, meet Soos, my handyman. He helps me around the place." said Stan as he finished greeting them.

"Hey dood. I'm Soos, like Mr. Pines said. Heh." announced Soos after which he knelt to his level and extended his hand with a pleasant smile.

"Hi..." returned Matt as he shook his hand with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah. If you two are done meetin' and all, can we get to work?" asked Stan while slightly pushing the two away. "Soos, I need ya to change one of the bulbs up in my room," he ordered as he gave a slight nod to Soos as a response to his confused expression regarding his new guest.

"You got it, Mr. Pines!" responded Soos as he gave Stan a salute and hailed off.

Stan breathed a sigh of relief for dealing with Soos this quickly, but he knew he still had another problem to deal with - Matt. He turned around to face him yet again while leaning on the vending machine.

"So, Matt, since I'm gonna be busy workin', I'm gonna leave ya to do what you want, but don't go wanderin' off into the forest or somewhere other than the Shack. Deal?" asked Stan.

"Er, deal...?"

"Good. I'mma go and..."

Before Stan could finish his sentence, he saw the door burst open, only to reveal his second employee - Wendy, being late as usual and donning her usual attire.

"Ha, speaking... or at least was gonna speak of the devil!" angrily remarked Stan along with crossing his arms.

"Whoa, Mr. Pines. I'm late with, what, three minutes. Psh, big deal." apathetically stated Wendy. "Blame the rain."

"Whatever, just get on that counter. Time is money and I can smell a busload of tourists coming!" he finished as he ran off to the museum to guide them.

What Stanley didn't realise, though, was that he had accidentally left Matthew in a precarious position with Wendy, with her not having noticed him yet. Matthew felt the good while it took her to finally glance at him.

"Huh? Hey, kid, did you get lost from the tour group, 'cause it's over there" she told him as she pointed a finger into the direction of the museum. "Gift shop's not open yet."

"I'm, uh, I'm with... Stan."

"What? Kid, Mr. Pines doesn't have any children. At least I don't think he does..."

"I'm not his kid... I... I came here yesterday asking for directions and he took me in... I don't know why." Matt finished as he now went to the counter and made eye contact with Wendy.

"Hm, strange. I never thought Mr. Pines was the empathetic type." she pondered.

"Heh, yeah... he doesn't look like it." commented Matt. "Oh, um, sorry, forget I said that. The customers are probably gonna arrive soon anyway, so..."

"Nah, dude, don't worry. Everybody talks behind everyone's back." assuringly said Wendy. "Plus, those idiots aren't coming out soon. Trust me."

"Alright..."

"Oh, I'm Wendy, by the way. I work the counter here. It's boring, like, always, but it's cool to have someone new around to talk to at least."

"Heh, thanks. I'm Matt." he stated again for what felt like the hundredth time these past few days.

"So..." Wendy began as she went to sit down on the counter chair. "Where are ya from?"

Matthew began to uncomfortably fumble around. It took Wendy only seconds to note the inconvenience she had created with her question.

"Hey, don't sweat it. I can relate to ya, not wanting to talk about your past and all," assured Wendy.

"Yeah, it's not something I would like to share... not now at least..."

"Well, do it when ya wanna do it. You seem like a cool guy, but man, cut the worry act."

"Heh, will try to. Don't ask me how I even found this place..." he humorously replied. "Let alone if I'm acting or anything..."

"Oh man, I can hear those walking moneybags coming here already," she noted, completely ignoring Matthew's last sentence. "Welp, I'd hate to cut this short, but it seems like I have no choice if I wanna keep this measly job. See ya around though." she finished as she gave him a thumbs up and a warm smile.

"Yeah, sure..."

With no clear directive, Matt decided he should let Stan do his job and heed his advice and explore what little there is in the shack. He went to the front porch and sat down on the wooden platform that kept the whole thing together. The atmosphere filled him with the bad memories from yesterday. He tried to do his best to suppress them, but the gut-wrenching thought that he almost died out there, alone and in the cold shook him. It was strange that he even considered knocking on Stan's door, for the last thing he had expected out of the shack and its lone resident was salvation. Retreading back again, he also internally remarked how Stan was able to read through his lie and help him more than he could ever know. He admired that ability, and, to a certain extent, Stan himself. Oddly enough, after sitting on the porch for a good while, the forest's calm and welcoming demeanour slowly mitigated Matt's bad memories and replaced them with a sense of serenity and peace. He chuckled to himself, wondering if this is what nature at its best does to people. After listening more to the chirping of the birds and other various, not so easily identifiable sounds from the forest, he went back in the shack, having heard the customers beginning to leave.

Upon entering the shack again, he saw that it was bustling with business. He began to wonder how much money Stan really made from his lucrative business and if he ever had any problems with the authorities. Shrugging that random thought off, he proceeded to head into the large crowd of customers in order to get to the museum and possibly Stan. From the many accidental bumps he had with the handful of people who were all going in the opposite direction, he began ignoring his surroundings and, in doing so, tripped on a slightly raised floorboard. He wasn't able to regain his balance and hit something hard head-first. Only after he managed to get up from his crash and rub his throbbing head did he see that he had hit no other, but one of the customers' children. His immediate instinct was to go and apologise, but the child's mother pushed Matthew from him. Slowly backing away and beginning to frantically shake his head between the customers and the now bawling child, he knew that his worst fear had become a reality - all eyes were on him for something he didn't do. Whilst he was backing up, he realised he had reached the end of the line and was pressed to the hard wooden wall near the front door of the gift shop. It didn't help at all that he was a subject to the angry shoutings of the parents and the nearby patrons as well. All that Matthew did at that moment was wonder - wonder how, in one fell swoop, he had managed to make so many people loathe him? His mind was racing and he couldn't contain it, for he knew that he had to do something, anything, eventually. He then remembered Stan - he knew that after he had sabotaged his business that he would be furious beyond belief, like any businessman would. That was his cue to get out of there.

Wendy, having only now noticed the commotion, got up from her chair to see what was happening. She was shocked when she saw a familiar figure run out of the main door and into the woods. Then she realised what had happened and tried to contain the situation with refunds. Just as she went to do so, she saw Stan enter the room.

"Wendy! What happened?" asked Stan as he went to her counter.

"Mr. Pines!" Wendy responded, only half paying attention to him due to her trying to fix the situation at hand. "Matt, he did... something and ran away into the woods!"

"What?!" Stan asked, trying to assess the problem. "Quick, point me 'ta where he went. I'm gonna go after him!"

"Over there!" said one of the customers, having overheard Stan's request to Wendy.

Stan didn't waste a second and started furiously sprinting into the direction that Matthew had gone whilst yelling to the tour-goers that the gift shop is temporarily closed. A cold dread filled Stanley while running in-between the trees. Different scenarios occurred to him left and right, but he swallowed them down. He had to find Matthew, he just had to. Finally, after sensing that he might give way to exhaustion, he found a small clearing that overlooked the town from afar and on it he saw Matthew. Although relieved, he felt it turn into ashes only seconds later, for he saw him narrowly avoiding what he identified from his brother's manuscripts as a yeti, although this one, unlike the ones illustrated in the journals, was roughly his size and bore a darkened shade of grey fur. Without a moment's hesitation, he swiftly dashed into the fray and lunged himself to save Matthew from a furious claw strike that hit him instead and ripped his suit. After painfully getting up and helping a surprised Matt up to his feet, he noted that they were near the edge of the clearing. The yeti was nearing them and they were forced to walk back as much as they could. Stan knew that he had to think of something fast or they were toast.

"Kid... what the heck were ya thinking?" Stan began with heavy sighs in between his words.

"I-I'm sorry, Stan..."

"Now's not the time! Quick, we've gotta think of somethin' to distract it."

Matt looked around. There wasn't much to choose from, but his survival instincts kicked in and he quickly forged a plan. He dashed to the left and grabbed one of the bigger rocks laying there. Just as he had anticipated, the yeti turned to run at him and he threw the rock with full force in its mangled face. The sheer blow of the rock made it tread backwards in an unstable manner.

"Quick! Go!" Matt yelled.

"Not with you I ain't!" Stan sternly ordered as he ran to him.

"But..." he began, but decided not to continue after seeing the yeti beginning to stabilise itself.

"Come on!" Stan yelled as he whisked Matt's hand away and sprinted through the forest back to the direction of the Mystery Shack.

Thankfully, after they knew the yeti had lost them, they resumed a normal pace. All was quiet between the two for a while. Both of them were thoroughly exhausted from the encounter they just had with one of Gravity Falls' paranormal oddities. So many questions crossed Matthew's mind about the events that transpired today. He couldn't resist the temptation and couldn't bear the eerie silence.

"So, um... where are we going?" Matt asked.

"Whaddya mean? Back to the shack of course." Stan retorted.

"But... aren't you... mad at me? I-I mean, I ruined your business..."

"What?" Stan responded lightheartedly and with a laugh. "Kid, my business ain't gonna go down 'cause of one bad day. Heck, might as well take the day off to dress this bad boy." he finished as he gestured to his wound.

"What was that... thing, though...?"

Stanley sighed.

"Look, Matt, the forest here at my place and the town nearby, Gravity Falls, are both weird. All I know is that they're both dangerous and filled with things like that." Stan answered.

"So... that's why you didn't want me to leave the shack..."

"Yep." nodded Stan.

The rest of the way to the Mystery Shack was silent, except for the sound of the duo's footsteps and the familiar chirping of the birds. After Stan's revelation, the forest now seemed all the more uninviting to him and he regretted ever thinking otherwise. He didn't hate it at first, but now, after having the creatures that lurk in it nearly kill him, he knew that his first impression was one of a ruse. After a while of walking and following signs, both of them finally saw the shack in view and rejoiced.

"Hey, um... I just wanted to say... thanks," said Matt seemingly out of nowhere.

"Thanks for what, kid?"

"Well... everything. For taking me in, for giving me somewhere to... to sleep, for saving my l-life..." he went on as he began to tear up. "And all I did is s-stab you in the back..." he muttered out.

Stan noticed that and knelt down to him, just as he had done yesterday when he was but a complete stranger.

"Hey, kid, c'mon." soothed Stan. "Don't let me take all the glory..."

"W-what...?"

Stan wholeheartedly chuckled.

"Matt, if it ain't for you, we'd have both been goners by now. You saved my life too." congratulated Stan. "And don't forget that. Ever. And believe me when I say that already makes ya a better person than me."

Matthew could not handle it. The sheer altruism emanating from Stan brought him to a breaking point. He wasn't used to this, wasn't used to love, especially from a someone he had just met yesterday. He leapt into his bulky arms and hugged him with an iron grip.

"Thank you... so much..." he said with tear-ridden eyes. "It's... it's been so long..."

"I know, kiddo. I know.." Stan told him, having finally made a decision regarding him.

With that, Matt let go of him. They made their way to the gift shop door once more and entered.

"Mr. Pines!" Wendy exclaimed. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine, Wendy," Stan said with a painful groan in-between sentences. "Go and take the day off. Ya earned it for keepin' this whole thing under control.."

Wendy looked appalled.

"Wow, um, 'kay then," she responded as she went to grab her stuff. "You sure you're not sick, though, 'cause this is pretty strange for you."

"Huh, I'm gettin' the feeling you wanna stay cooped up here?"

"Oh, no, no!" Wendy hastily replied as she quickly exited through the door.

With Wendy gone, Stan turned his attention to Matt.

"Say, after I dress this, wanna have some lunch? I'm starvin'." proposed Stan.

Matt laughed.

"It would be my pleasure, Mr. Pines."


	3. A Welcome Bondage

_The darkness crept in the little paradise he had been used to living on. He did not see it at first - he just kept living his life in his little bubble filled with misplaced hope. Its dark tendrils seeped into the smaller, more unnoticeable things firsthand, but later grew like an unquarantined disease. When he finally felt it, he furiously tried to push it away, he wanted to make it leave him alone, but it was too late. He could not stop it. And then he saw it - all that he had tirelessly worked to build and preserve vanish in the blink of an eye. And he was left alone again. He had so many questions on his mind - what was he doing here, what did he do to deserve this? Was he stupid to ever believe that he could finally live a peaceful life? Probably. But that didn't matter now. Everything was gone and all that lingered on was him and the void. Out of the nothingness materialised a door - it was the blandest door he had ever seen, carved out from plain wood, presumably oak as far as his tree knowledge went. He walked, no, levitated to it monotonously and opened it. The creaking of the worn out hinges was evident and behind the said door was a dimly lit corridor with various other doors on its side walls that were more akin to gateways - this time they were all made from a variety of materials and bore different sizes - some cheap and large, others small and expensive. He went to face the first one on the left - it was small, but superfluously decorated. He turned the knob with his hand and upon opening it saw a boy and a girl - ones he did not recognise - frolicking in a forest with him. They were both his age and seemed as if though they enjoyed his company. The scenery quickly changed and he saw a familiar face - Stan, looking happier than ever with another person whose back was turned and face was hidden from his purview. And then, the scene changed again. And again. He continually saw new faces and new places, but none were of real importance to him. But he did notice one pattern - everyone was seemingly happy. It was odd, because even he - a person who was now stripped away of all he ever held dear - was happy in the universe held in the small and nicely decorated door. He even tried entering the scenes, but he could not, for he was only allowed to silently watch. As yet another unknown to him person's scene ended, the entire film abruptly stopped and the door closed itself, only leaving him perplexed out of the entire experience. Looking back at the hallway, he saw another door next to the first one that seemed to directly contrast it. It was made out of a sharp wood that could've given any unfortunate soul a ton of splinters even from the slightest touch and was covered in a variety of unappealing flora - vines, decayed flowers and many others he did not recognise. Navigating his hand through the thorn-filled plants, he opened the second door. The scenery that greeted him was just as vile and uninviting as the door itself - he saw a multitude of horrid events, some that even included him. He wanted to stop, to close the wretched door, but he could not. For some reason, unbeknownst to him, he was bound to watching. He could not shriek or make even the smallest of peeps to show the disgust or horror he was internally feeling from witnessing the now constantly changing scenes before him. Finally, it ceased and the door violently shut itself, knocking him backwards with significant force. After slowly stabilising himself from the blow, he realised he had no control over his body. His vessel proceeded to venture drag on down to the end of the corridor where he saw yet another door, but contrary to the others in the corridor, this one was as bland as the one from which he had first entered. He thought that pattern might mean that door was an exit, but he had the underlying fear that it might be something else - something much more sinister and dire. He didn't want to open it, but his body wished otherwise._

_He entered the darkness yet again, but strangely, it was as if though he was standing on something. Suddenly, he felt the grasp on his will break as he resumed full control of his body, although he soon came to the realisation that he could not levitate wherever he pleased, which frightened him. The thought of having only entered another nightmarish realm made him want to get away, no, wake up, from it. He then understood it - he was dreaming. He silently remarked how stupid of a deduction that was due to its obviousness, but he knew that his mind had kept him from thinking so up until now. Maybe it was intentional that he only now discovered this, he thought to himself. Maybe someone else was really pulling the strings here, in his mind._

_As if on cue, after he finished that thought, the entire room lit up with blue fire that formed a straight pathway. He looked around himself and realised that he was in a massive throne room of sorts, complete with fine made marble pillars that held the entire structure together all the way from the door to the throne itself. He glanced at the throne itself - although it was as huge and grandiose as the rest of the room, he couldn't help but notice the lack of a kingly figure there. As he hesitantly walked over the giant purple carpet laid out and over to the front of the throne itself, he began to wonder who could possibly be behind all of this. Chances are, he thought, that it was someone he didn't know of, for this world liked to pull unwelcome surprises on him. He finally got to the front of the massive seat, but after daringly taking another step forward, he felt a pressure plate click under his foot. Just as he realised what he had just done, a huge flash of white light engrossed his retinas, leaving him vulnerable for a few seconds. After managing to rub his eyes from the hurtful light, he looked up and discerned a figure - a yellow, triangle-shaped and anthropomorphic entity holding a cane in one of its long black limbs. Its one eye did not shed light on its horrifying appearance moreso, which irked him. He was shocked, to say the least, of the thing that had appeared before him, but before he could do anything, he was thrown into a conversation with his newfound acquaintance._

_"Hey there, slick! Name's Bill Cipher, but you can call me Bill!" he greeted with a high-pitched and slightly robotic voice._

_"Hi," he began as he only realised how hoarse his voice was. "My name is-"_

_"Yeah, yeah," Bill interrupted. "I know all about ya, lightning bolt. Thing is, though, you don't know a lot about... me." he suddenly finished with a deep and terrifying voice._

_Matt jumped back and gulped._

_Bill let out a good laugh as if he had just heard the best joke in his life._

_"Sorry for the scare there! Forgot you mortals weren't used to the Dreamscape and all of the limitless potential it holds."_

_"The.. Dreamscape?" inquired Matt._

_"Yeesh, how far behind are you, kid?"_

_Matt returned only an insulted look._

_"Kidding, kidding. Look, you're dreaming now, right?" rhetorically asked Bill whilst twirling around his cane. "I can visit you in dreams. That's sorta my specialty, being a dream demon and all."_

_"Dream demon?"_

_"Yep." he confirmed. "But look, that's besides the point. Thing is, you've been getting pretty close with that old geezer Stan. Maybe we could maybe work some sort of a trade with you helping me and me helping you."_

_"Helping you with what..?" asked Matt._

_"Kid, don't worry. I'll do my thing in a day most. After that you can ask for absolutely anything in the whole universe and I'll grant it to you. I'm not gonna let your body get a scratch, either."_

_Matt was at a loss for words. This demon who he had just met was asking him for his body and will. Despite the fact that he surely did not want to accept his offer, he remained fearful of his power and capabilities. He decided to stall for time._

_"I'm... not sure. Can you give me some time to think about this?" Matthew replied._

_Bill sighed._

_"Kid, you've got about three and a half more minutes until you wake up." he declared. "So make your choice quick."_

_Matthew pondered upon the offer yet again. When he had heard Bill mention Stan, he was fearful that he might do something to him. He couldn't let more people get hurt on his watch. He had already made his choice, but how could he tell it to an almighty dream demon?_

_"Tick-tock, kid," said Bill, breaking the silence and proceeding to extend his free, now engulfed entirely in blue flames hand. "Don't disappoint me."_

_"I, uh.."_

_"Well?"_

_"I decline."_

_Suddenly, the entire room went dark again and all blue flames dissipated. The only emitting light was the yellow glow from Bill's triangle body._

_"Well, you've disappointed me, kid." said Bill as he turned around and crossed his arms. "It seems I'm going to have to resort to using.. other measures." he finished with the same deep voice._

_"W-what?" Matt fearfully replied._

_"You'll see. Welp, hate to cut this short, but I'll be off. Just know that the next time you come back here, it's not going to be pretty." threatened Bill. "Anyway, sweet dreams!" he said as he waved Matt goodbye and snapped his fingers._

Matthew awoke with a loud gasp. After taking a minute to calm himself down, he ran a hand through his forehead and felt the large amount of sweat that accumulated on his hand. He looked around and saw the light shining through one of the windows above him - it was morning, finally. He was shaken from the experience he just had - he kept denying the plausibility of it and went on to assure himself with false explanations - he thought his 'friend' was just a figment of his own vivid imagination, or that his lucidness halfway through was due to his previous attempts to control his dreams. But deep down he knew the truth - what happened in his dream was nothing short of real and the vague, fear-inducing message Bill had left him with haunted him as he got up from his bed in the attic room. Despite sleeping with the same clothes he usually wears, he did not reek of filth, but nonetheless, he decided he ought to shower before heading down to start the day.

While walking down the corridor, he began pushing his mind to think about other things and not the experience he had just lived through. He even thought about everything that had transpired yesterday - about the whole ordeal at the shack and the yeti, and after everything after that as well, including the pleasant lunch he had with Stan and the exploring he had done by himself in the shack for the bigger part of the day. He chuckled at the fact that he could name almost every room already. When he arrived at the bathroom door, he began wondering if Stan had really accepted him and if he really had the right to act as if he was living here. He didn't want to bother him, yet he still wanted to keep up his hygiene, so he went in, but before he did, he made a mental note that he'd ask Stan if it was okay to use the facilities in the shack in the future. Even in the bathroom, where the only noise that was evident was the running of the water and the quiet hum of one of the fluorescent lamps, he still couldn't help but retread his mind back to his dream, but he didn't think about Bill Cipher only - he wondered what the doors meant and if they had any connection with him. While he was making one of his theories as to what transpired, he remembered what Stan told him the other day - that Gravity Falls was weird. No wonder that after seeing a yeti almost kill both of them that there would be something much more dangerous in play. All of these possibilities, all of these odd occurrences were enough to make him haywire. He dreaded the next time he had to go to sleep, he loathed how he was taking a shower in a stranger's bathroom, he was afraid - afraid of everything around him. Deep down he knew that what he wanted most was to get accepted - it was something that he craved desperately, and he wanted it not only from Stan, but from everyone else - he wanted the people around him to not brandish him as an outcast or a weirdo for a simple mistake he had made!

It took him a moment to realise that he had instinctively punched the wall in front of him with brute force. It was a good thing that the sound of the water was so loud or otherwise he would've gotten a problem on his hands. He knew that he had finally let out the feelings he had kept buried for so long and that they were now plaguing his mind. And it was all because of the dream and that demon. Feeling defeated and utterly pathetic, he surrendered himself to the will of the warm water. He had heard from somewhere that bathrooms were the places where people tend to be the most melancholic - it was ironic, for he was already beginning to shed tears from the accumulated pressure. After letting his feelings out for a good while and feeling thoroughly emotionally drained, he finally turned the faucet and shut the flow of water. He took a glance at his reflection after clothing himself - it was the same worn out face he had grown to resent over the years. He finally exited the bathroom with a bad omen weighing on his conscious.

He went into the kitchen and, surprisingly, found Stan underdressed, reading the newspaper and drinking his morning coffee. He still had some breakfast whipped up, but it was quite odd to see him not ready for the day.

"Hey kid, there ya are!" greeted Stan as he lit his face up from the newspaper.

"Good Morning.."

"Yeah, you too," dismissed Stan. "Anyway, grab somethin' to eat. I won't be opening shop today again. My wound's being a pain in my butt."

That also struck him as strange. From what he had gathered about Stan's character, he felt as if it wasn't like him to miss work just because of some wound. Maybe he wanted to give himself some time to heal and he was honest, but he had a hunch it was something else.

"Didn't it heal already?" asked Matt.

"Nah, it's a pretty deep cut. That ugly sonnuva gun did a number on me." admitted Stan. "So, since I can't do my oh-so physically involving stuff, I thought I'd take this day off as well."

"So you're going to leave Wendy and um.." he said as he forgot the name of the second person working for him.

"Soos. And no, I ain't gonna have them ruin my business. So if I'm takin' one off, that means they are too."

Although he was perplexed by this too, he just shrugged it off, thinking that Stan probably knows what's best. He went and served himself a helping of one of Stan's dishes.

"Soo.." began Stan as he finally closed his newspaper. "How are ya?"

"Eh, fine." he shrugged.

"Sleep well?"

"As well as anyone can, I guess..?" he lied.

"Those bags under your eyes say otherwise, kid." retorted Stan.

"But I had them all the way from yesterday!"

"Eh, true. Just never bothered to ask you about it." he told him. "But I am now."

"Look, I'm fine!" he responded as he slightly raised up his voice.

"Hey, don't raise your tone at me, kid."

Matt didn't respond to him. He couldn't tell him about his dream - Stan would think he is a lunatic in that case, but he also didn't want to anger him with a bad attitude. After a short silence, he finally piped up.

"Sorry.."

Stan looked at the ground and frowned.

"Ah, t'sokay. If ya don't wanna say, that's fine by me."

"Thanks.." Matt responded with a smile.

"No problem." he said, returning the smile.

In the midst of eating, he suddenly remembered the mental note he had made before entering the bathroom.

"Oh, hey, I wanted to ask if it's um, okay if I use the bathroom and stuff..?"

"Well, of course, kid," Stan answered with a laugh. "What kinda question is that?"

Matt simply shrugged in response, not knowing what kind of an answer to have expected from Stan.

After finishing his meal and getting up to outserve his dish, he was stopped dead in his track by Stan.

"Hey, kid!"

Matt turned around.

"What?" he asked with a confused expression.

"I was wondering, since you're gonna be staying here for a while, like we talked 'bout yesterday, if you'd wanna help me around the shack?"

Matt thought about it for a bit. He knew he had nothing else really going on and he knew that some mindless labour would distract his worried mind, so it was a win-win for him.

"You can start now if ya want or tomorrow. It's simple stuff, like movin' and cleaning." offered Stan. "That sound good?"

"Hmm.. what would you want me to do now?"

Stan thought intently.

"Well, nothin' much really. Maybe sweep the floors in the gift shop a bit, somethin' simple. So, deal?" asked Stan as he proceeded to raise his hand just like Bill Cipher did so in his dream, which made Matt jump a little.

"What? Does cleaning the floors scare thee? Ha!" Stan laughed loudly.

"Um.. no, no. It's just.. nothing. But the job's fine by me.." he said as he hesitantly shaked Stan's hand.

"Glad 'ta hear it." he happily replied as he shot him a finger gun and a smile.

With a clear purpose in mind and a bad feeling yet again, he left the kitchen. He went to the gift shop and grabbed a nearby broom. Just as he was sweeping, he noticed how dirty the shack's finer rooms even were. That observation amused him, for it spoke volumes about the kind of employees Stan had at his disposal. Whilst he was cleaning behind the counter, he didn't hear the door opening and someone coming in. That someone was Soos, whom was in the dark as to Stan's decision regarding the work day. As Matt got up from cleaning some peculiar things back from the counter that were presumably left by Wendy, he saw Soos going through the 'Employees Only' door. He quickly ran to him and consequentially to the living room, where Stan was comfortably situated.

"So as I was sayin'," began Stan, but before continuing, he noticed Matthew's presence. "Today's off. Sorry I didn't tell ya, Soos."

"Oh," said Soos with a glint of sadness evident in his voice. "Okay then, Mr. Pines."

After Soos went out of the living room, Stan wondered what Matthew was doing there.

"Hey kid, ya done with the cleaning?"

"Yeah, actually," he responded confidently.

Stan thought for a bit.

"Hey, look," he began. "Since Soos is gonna be free today and since you ain't got nothing to do, why don't ya hang out with him for a bit?"

Matt rubbed the back of his head. He was juggling between different possibilities and scenarios that might occur if he were to accept Stan's proposal.

"Well, I.. guess? If you insist.." he answered him to yet another of his undeniable propositions.

"Ah, don't worry." said Stan as he got up and patted him on the back. "Soos's a good guy. You'll get along. Heck, even more so if you're into that geek stuff."

Although Matt was a fan of some things branded as geek, he wasn't passionate about them. Maybe Soos could teach him the way of being one, he thought and chuckled under his breath. Stan nudged him to the door and both of them saw something strange - Soos was still standing in the gift shop and was staring intently at the ground, as if though he was analysing it. Both Stan and Matt looked at him with confused expressions and the former, not bearing the awkward silence anymore, said something.

"Soos, um, what're ya doing?" he asked.

"Oh, Mr. Pines, sorry! I just noticed how clean the floor here is! A lot more than usual!" he responded in an awe-filled voice.

"Yeah, well you can owe that to this guy right 'ere." said Stan as he gestured to Matt.

"Woah, dood. You did this? Amazing!"

"It's not, um, that much, really." said Matt.

"Yeah, yeah, cut the chit-chatter," ordered Stan. "Soos, since you're gonna be free today, Matt wanted to see if you two could hang out." he said whilst bursting out laughing halfway through and making Matt turn red.

Soos thought for a bit.

"Sure, dood. I'm not doing much today and we could go into town!"

"And you're… cool with that?" asked Matt just so he could be sure.

Soos simply nodded and Matt found the courage to smile at that. They left the shack while Stan was still laughing at his own attempt to embarrass Matt. Matthew saw Soos heading into the forest and that made him suddenly stop.

"Um, Soos..?"

"Yeah, dood?"

"Are we going to go through the.. forest?" asked Matt.

"Yeah, why not? I mean, I don't think there's any other way to town, heh."

Matt gulped. He didn't want to meet the creature he had an encounter with yesterday again, but he also didn't want to sound nuts.

"No.. it's just.." he trailed off. "Nevermind."

The duo proceeded to head into the forest. The sound created out of the rummaging of leaves nearby from the calm and dry wind made Matthew even more apprehensive, for he wondered what other wildlife could be lurking around - just waiting to surprise both of them. Matt remarked how tall the trees stood amidst the straightforward path to the town. Whilst calmly trotting, he unconsciously began experiencing a cathartic journey simply from surrendering himself to the same place he had damned only a day before. It was ironic, to an extent and he knew that, but he didn't care. Who knows, he thought to himself, maybe he had a connection with nature itself and no matter what beast or thing it threw at him, he would always look to it as a bastion in which to harness his inner peace and tranquility - something he couldn't say for any other place nor any other forest. He finally thought that, despite everything, maybe the path wasn't as bad nor dangerous as the forest itself.

"Hey, dood?" Soos suddenly asked just as he had finished his little thought session.

"Yep?"

"Can I ask you something? And don't answer it if ya don't wanna."

"Err, sure." responded Matt.

"How, um.. how did you come here?"

Matt remained silent for a bit and proceeded to turn his expression at the ground. Soos caught wind of this fast.

"Look, dood, it's okay if you don't wanna!" said Soos while painfully trying to fix the situation.

"No.."

"Huh?"

"I.. I have to tell someone eventually. Might as well start with you." he stated with a slight chuckle.

Matt braced himself and deeply sighed.

"I.. I ran away from home. Or what I had to call home, anyway," told him Matthew. "See, I'm.. I'm kind of a foster child. I've been to a lot of homes and some were bad.. really bad. I never knew my parents and I don't know what ever happened to them. I just.. I don't know.. wonder if they're somewhere out there in the world and if they even care about me." he finished gloomly and looked at the ground yet again with a sad expression.

Soos looked ahead with an evident frown on his face. He too sighed.

"Look, dood, I'm sorry you had to go through that. And believe me, I know it's tough. The only person I've got now is my Abuelita," said Soos. "Heh, even my dad, the guy I wanted the most to be there for me, didn't even show up. That's.. Kinda the reason I have so many postcards in my room from where he's been." he chuckled.

A slight pause occurred before Soos said anything again.

"But.. trust me when I tell you that Stan is.. is like the dad I never had growing up. I know ya don't see it now, but after you get to know him a bit better, you'll see that he's a good person inside. Like everyone. Even my dad, and even your real parents" finished Soos with a warm smile on his face.

Matt didn't want to listen to him - he wanted to say how wrong he was for thinking so nicely of everyone who had betrayed him. He even wanted to call him stupid for that. But he couldn't find the courage, no, the right to do so. Deep down Matthew knew that Soos was right - at least for humans - and that his prejudiced thoughts on some of his foster parents were nothing more than lies he had told himself to justify his actions. But could he blame himself? He had been a victim of a sizeable roster of vicious and cruel foster parents and that made him wary of all of them - including, at first glance, Stan himself.

"Yeah," he said with a sigh. "I suppose you're right."

He didn't realise it immediately, but both him and Soos were slowly entering a more urbanised area. It wasn't until Matt saw a building that the fact that they were in the town became evident.

"Huh, so this is the town.." Matt stated as he and Soos were now both walking on concrete slabs that formed a small path around the roads.

"Yep, Gravity Falls!" Soos responded as he gestured at the town's not so grand appearance.

Matt simply nodded.

"Sooo, I was thinking we could hit the arcade or somethin'," suggested Soos. "And don't worry, heh, it's on me!"

Although Matt hesitated, he soon came to the internal realisation that he had never really been to an arcade before, so he was intrigued to see what it beholds.

"Sure, that sounds interesting!"

Funnily enough, the arcade was just near them - it was as if though Soos had intended for them to originally head there. That thought crossed Matt's mind, but he didn't really care about it - he was just glad he was slowly getting accepted by someone other than his de-facto caretaker. They arrived at the doors of the arcade and from the neon sign, Matt already deducted that this establishment was going to be one emanating with hyperactivity and predominated by youthful faces full of soon to be ruined vigor. Ignoring his judgement, they proceeded to head into the arcade itself. The first thing that Matt took note of upon their arrival was the lack of people in the seperate arcade booths, as well as the lack of functional lighting in the building.

"Um, Soos, why are the lights out? And where are all the people?" asked Matt, with his voice echoing throughout the main hall and the one next to it.

"Don't worry, dood. I caught the time when for some reason no one is at the arcade. Huh, and apparently I caught the time with no light bulbs either!" stated Soos cheerfully as he dangled the burnt light bulb.

Matt replied with a raised eyebrow and a slight nod.

"Anyway, which booth do you wanna pick? I've been waiting all week to try out this new one that came in," Soos told him.

"I'm, um, fine with your recommendation. You're the master of this place, after all." he said with a slight chuckle.

"Then off to the new booth it is!"

After proceeding to buy a dozen of chips from the counter at the front, the duo went and juked it out at the booth. Matthew didn't feel time fly by as he became immersed by the artistry of the arcade games that provided a form of escapism to his troubled mind. Soos, as well, enjoyed having someone to play with and was also enamoured by the captivation of the new game. Only after wasting the last of his chips did Soos realise that they had spent more than two hours at the booth.

"Uh, dood. I'm out of chips and we kinda spent two hours on just this game," stated Soos. "Heh, guess it's really something!"

"Yeah, I guess.." replied Matt as he finally trailed his vision from the small screen.

"Hm.. it's only noon and we ran outta chips.." wondered out loud Soos. "Wanna go and grab lunch at the snack bar?"

"Eh, I don't know. I already made you waste a lot of money.."

"Ah, don't sweat it, dood. I'm just glad someone decided to hang out with me," said Soos with a sheepish smile.

Matt could not help but return the smile.

"Ah, what the heck.."

"Yay! To the snack bar!"

After grabbing some rather disgusting food, the pair left the arcade. With no clear place to go to, they settled on just strolling around town in order for Matthew to get a better picture of what lies beyond the confines of the shack. During their little walk, Matthew became a subject to quite the list of events - some so odd that cannot bear description, but others were mainly just him perceiving the antics of the many townsfolk from afar with Soos giving him vivid details as to their lives and relationships. The mere fact that he knew so much about so many people astonished him, but he ignored his awe tried to digest the information he got as best he could. After hearing yet another one of Soos's anecdotes regarding one of the residents, Matt decided he ought to try and tell him that he's seen his fair share of the townsfolk.

"Hey, Soos, are there any interesting places to visit around here? I mean, the people here are.. interestingly weird and all, but anything else?"

"Hm.." Soos focused. "Hey, I could take you to the Gravity Falls museum! They've got lots of cool stuff in there. Even I liked it!"

Although hopping around the town was getting tiresome for Matthew, he didn't want to go back to the shack yet or he knew he'd spend an unhealthy amount of time thinking about the meaning of his dream. He was glad this outing had proved as a distraction and was successful in regards to his relationship with Soos. As they were making their to the museum, Matthew accidentally bumped into someone much shorter than him, causing the person to consequently fall. After trying to help the person recuperate, but failing as a result of his knee-jerk reaction to Matthew touching him, he shriveled back with a scare. Only after the victim got up did he read his features - unnaturally huge white hair predominated his body and was possibly the most outlining characteristic of his otherwise disproportionate body. He was, after all, a boy - a boy that bore a white suit with a black shirt underneath little clip-on tie along with it. Its short stature made its grandiose appearance be nothing more than a cause for laughter, but at this point in time, Matthew suppressed that urge.

"Who do you think you are?!" he yelled at Matt with a Southern-American dialect and a high-pitched voice.

"Um.. no one in particular?" replied Soos.

"Shut up!" he screamed as his face turned red. "I was going to have this suit dyed, but now I'm gonna have 'ta clean it because 'a YOU!" he pointed at Matt.

"I'm sorry, but it wasn't.."

"Look, boy, I do not know who you are. Heck, I ain't even seen ya 'round town, I bet you're some nobody who just showed up. But what I DO know is that I don't like you! And if you are new around here, then lemme be the first one to tell you that ain't good."

Matt gulped.

"Look, dood, my friend is sorry. Can you maybe chill for a bit?" asked Soos, not expecting a pleasant answer.

The child's eye began twitching violently. It murmured a couple of incoherent and meaningless sentences under his breath and hastily dove off to the opposite direction.

"Yeesh, that was awkward," stated Soos and turned to see a distressed Matt. "Ah, don't let him get to ya, dood. He's a meanie."

Matt sighed.

"He's right, though.."

"Huh?"

"I am a nobody. I don't know if I even belong here, Soos.." said Matt.

"Dood, this town is full of weirdos like that kid and me," stated Soos. "Don't worry, you're cool dood and you're gonna fit right in here."

Matthew didn't answer him. He just hoped what he said wasn't blind reassurance to get him to stop being so sensitive. As they hastily continued down the sidewalk, the Gravity Falls museum came into view as well. Matthew was thoroughly impressed by its size and architecture - the two owls that sat guarding the building and its knowledge, as well as the set of pillars on the main entrance that added another layer of astonishment from Matthew's mind. What ceased that awe, sadly, was the realisation that they were made of nothing else, but marble - they looked like the same pillars from his dream, which shook him and made him apprehensive as to entering the building. Suppressing that fear as he had been used to doing so quite often today, the two climbed up the steps of the entrance to the museum. What they didn't foresee, though, was the sight of a frantic man running out of the museum while shouting meaningless jumble. Soos managed to stop him before he ran away from the museum.

"Woah, dood!" said Soos as he held the man at the entrance. "What's going on?"

"F-F-FIRE! THE MUSEUM IS ON FIRE! THERE'S SOMEONE IN THERE.. T-TRAPPED" he screeched with an ear-piercing voice.

Soos and Matt looked at each other with eyes wide. They could already smell the smoke coming out from the museum. Both of them knew that going in there was nothing less of a suicide mission, but Matthew's urge to do the right thing with clear judgement for once in his life made him not care. He took a gigantic breath and plummeted in the fiery pits of the museum with his cyan shirt acting as a handkerchief.

"Dood, wait!" yelled Soos, but it was already too late. He had no other choice and he had to ensure Matthew's safety. Stan trusted him, and he was not about to betray that. He also jumped in.

The building was, unsurprisingly, on fire. The flames were condensed in mostly the main hall, which meant that both Soos and Matthew weren't far away from any possible location in which the trapped person might be. Soos desperately followed Matt's trail, but the smoke was taking a heavy toll on him and his ability to run. It wasn't until he saw Matthew struggle that he found the inner strength to go in and save him. But he was wrong, for Matt wasn't the only one in need of saving, but the girl he was helping up from the ground as well. Soos, now barely sustaining himself, found one last pocket of air to breathe out and dove in to grab the two children. With them safely tucked in his burly arms, he ran out of the now engulfed in flames and smoke building, only barely making it out alive. He put them down and they, as well as their rescuer, Soos, instantly began coughing out smoke and gasping for fresh air. By the time they recovered from their asphyxiation, they were already surrounded by the girl's parents, as well as a couple of townsfolk that congratulated them and the fire department, who pushed them away in order to put out the fire. The girl's parents went and personally thanked Matt and Soos for their gracious act of heroism. Soos noted that he had actually seen the girl somewhere before - she was Asian, wore glasses and a green sweater with darker stripes of the same colour. Nonetheless, she was kind and grateful to both of them as well and even gave Matt a hug, which Soos clearly saw made him blush a bit. After watching the fire be put out in the matter of a minute, Soos and Matt both decided it'd be best if they headed home, for it was already dusk.

"Wow, now that was intense, dood." stated Soos.

"Yeah.." Matt answered as he padded a part of his burned shirt.

"But.. why did ya do it?"

"Hm?"

"Why did you go in, dood? I.. I mean, Stan put his trust in me to make sure you're not hurt," revealed Soos.

Matt wanted to punch himself. Although he saved a life, he realised only now that he could've gotten hurt, or worse. He risked his life just so he could get some recognition by the people in the town. It was bad enough that he jumped in without thinking, but now, having Soos feel betrayed, made the entire atmosphere even worse.

"I'm.. I'm sorry, Soos. I just wanted to feel.. accepted. I did it because that little kid got to me. I don't know why I let him, but.. I'm sorry."

Soos sighed.

"Look, dood, the good thing is that we're okay. Just, please, don't do that type of stuff again. I don't want something bad to happen to ya."

"I… I'll try."

The rest of the walk to the shack was mostly silent, except for some banter thrown around regarding their experiences today. Matthew didn't want to openly admit it, but he was more than satisfied from his time hanging out with Soos, even if one of their activities almost cost them their lives. The forest beside the path was, like the first time they went through it, peaceful, but only now did the sound of crickets dominate over the non-existent chirping of the day birds and were the signs pointing sharply to the shack noticeable and useful. Despite these differences, Matthew still felt more at ease by taking in the quiet atmosphere, for it was one where he could be alone with his thoughts. Yet still, even here, the guilt he felt from all of his actions - whether they were past, present or future - weighed on his conscience. The silence, which had been peaceful beforehand, now felt eerie and malignant as the night grew. Matt's thoughts retreaded back to his dream and the odd connection today's events had with what transpired in it - Stan's hand, the fire and many others he had probably not even noticed. Although he wanted more than anything to refute those similarities by brushing them off as odd coincidences, he could not, for he simply didn't know to what extent the dream demon's power went and to what level he could've played behind the scenes of today's events. It was exactly that part that irked him - the fact that he was kept in the dark and left to puzzle upon a horrific encounter with a supernatural entity with seemingly unlimited power. It was, he internally remarked, an experience that would make even the brightest of people go insane. He vowed to himself that he'd never let others think of him as such, though, and he's managed to keep it up somehow by now.

It wasn't long before the shack's outline finally reached both Soos and Matthew's eyes. When both of them got to the front porch of the gift shop, Soos bent his hand and opened the door. Inside was, surprisingly, Stan, who was leaning suspiciously on the vending machine and waiting for them. It was evident that the first thing he took note of was the condition of the duo's clothes as he darted his eyes between them.

"Hey, Mr. Pines! We, um, came back!" announced Soos as he closed the door and turned to face Stan.

"Yeah, I can see that, but what happened to both of ya?"

"We, err, kind of got into a little accident.." answered Matt.

"Accident?" inquired Stan with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, um, I kind of-"

"It was amazing!" interrupted Soos. "We saved this girl from a fire in the Gravity Falls museum!"

Stan paused for a while and just looked at both Soos and Matthew with a face that read both astonishment and utter disbelief.

"It's true, Mr. Pines!" stated Soos.

Matt remained silent, trying to not show a reaction as to Soos's absurd declaration.

"Is this true, kid?"

"Well.." he looked at both Stan and Soos. "Yeah, it is.."

Stan paused yet again. Matthew saw the manner in which his eyes moved - he was most likely trying to visualise how Matt had even managed to accomplish such a daunting act of heroism.

"Huh.." Stan said with pursed lips. "If Soos said that to my face, then it's true. Good job, kid."

Matt instantly beamed at that response.

"Yeah, don't get all excited or anythin'. It's late anyway, so you're off to bed after ya clean yourself up," ordered Stan.

Matt only nodded in response and proceeded to head to the stairway up to the bathroom while hearing only slight murmurs from Stan and Soos. Next thing he knew, Soos was leaving the shack and Stan was going into the living room to relax for the evening. He saw no point in trying to dabble in either party's affairs, so he just continued ascending the stairs. He reached the bathroom door yet again. This time, though, showering in the rather cold bathroom proved a lot more soothing and relaxing after the stressful and adventurous day he had. As he finished his shower, he noticed something on the sink - a seemingly new yellow and white toothbrush was leaning on the wall to which the said sink was bolted. He grabbed it and, seeing as he was already trying to keep his hygiene up, used it to brush his teeth, feeling thankful for whoever clearly bought it for him. He finished and walked at a brisk pace from the corridor to where the room and his bed lay whilst dreading the thought of going to sleep. After opening the creaky wooden door, he instantly turned his eyes to the messy bed. He went to it and swiftly got under the rugged covers. He told himself for what felt like the hundredth time today that he wouldn't get hurt, that the wretched demon wasn't as powerful as he thought he was, but he knew that only by going to sleep would the answer be revealed. He didn't want to see what awaited him in the Dreamscape, but he couldn't add sleep deprivation to his list of problems either. For a while, he just layed in bed and watched the dull ceiling with an expressionless face, hoping it would offer him even the slightest of reprieve from the ticking time bomb that was sleeping for him. Eventually, fatigue gave way and he began closing his eyes. He braced himself for what was about to succumb him.

He earnestly hoped that he would wake up.


	4. The Call

It was a productive day for the Mystery Shack, Stanley thought while making his way to the living room. Dusk had hit and his employees were already off for the day. He stopped himself at the vending machine after noticing it was a bit off. He adjusted its position accordingly so that it would be as inconspicuous as possible. Looking around himself and seeing the emptiness of the gift shop, he began to reminisce about today's experiences - the way he had managed to cooperate with Matthew, as well as Soos and, surprisingly, Wendy, made it so he'd get through tourist after tourist while still keeping up his effectiveness at snagging away more money, whilst of course maintaining lightning speed. Sadly, the work day didn't begin as well, with Matt waking up with a bad attitude for some reason unknown to him, which made working with him set off to a rocky start, not to mention his wound still hurting an annoyingly tiny bit. Nevertheless, Stanley negated the former issue by surprising Matthew in the morning with some new clothes he had bought for him the other day - he somehow managed to get his outfit correctly, although he had to search through most, if not all of the clothing shops in the mall. After delivering them and his wound coincidentally healing fully by the time the work day began, Stanley bore a positive vibe, which, although unlike his character, wasn't ruined nor stopped throughout the entire time. He attained the same pleasurable feeling from counting the large sum of money he had busted his butt off to earn as well. Before he got to relax fully, though, he knew he had to send Matthew to bed and to work in the lab after his eventual break. That didn't stop him from taking a short break nonetheless, as he finally positioned himself in the armchair he had grown oddly attached to all these years. After a good while of idly sitting by and trailing his mind process somewhere nonsensical, he swept back into reality and got up from his chair with a painful groan. As he was about to cross into the territory of the corridor, he suddenly heard the phone ring in the living room. Retreating back to his armchair, he picked it up.

"Err, hello? Who's this?"

"Oh Stanford, hello!" said a slightly distorted womanly voice.

Stan held his breath. He knew that voice, and hearing it again brought him mixed feelings, for it was the voice of his niece-in-law - Carol. He stood there, silent and bedazzled, but intrigued as well. Carol quickly caught up to his act.

"Stan?" asked Carol. "Are you there?"

"Ah," responded Stan, as if though he just grabbed the phone. "Yeah, yeah, I'm here. So, er, what's up?"

"Oh, nothing much! Dan's doing alright, school's out for the kids and we're all good."

Stan slightly smiled at this, happy that there was still some real link to the Pines family left that was seemingly content with their lives.

"Good 'ta hear it. Anyway, you know me and I know you. I can tell ya didn't just call to tell me how great it is back in Piedmont."

"Well…" she began. "I did tell you that the kids are off school. And we really hate that they spend it all cooped up inside with their video games.."

Stan quietly sighed.

"Yeah, yeah, I get where you're goin' at. But, I'm sorry Carol, I think I gotta say no."

"Wait," ushered Carol with a slightly raised voice. "I know you aren't a children person, but trust me, Dipper and Mabel are good kids. You'll feel like they aren't even there! And…"

"And what?"

Carol remained eerily silent. After a while of enduring the said silence, Stan proceeded to actively check if the connection was still there - whether it was by calling for Carol herself or by checking his own phone. Suddenly, he heard a sharp grumbling noise pierce his ear, causing it to feel quite the moderate amount of pain. Nonetheless, he discerned that the noise was surely Carol picking up the phone again.

"Carol? Ya there?"

"Yes," she sighed. "Yes I'm here. I'm sorry I hanged up for a bit, but I...had to deal with something."

Her unwillingness to name the problem she had piqued Stan's interest. It also made him feel as if though something was amiss with Carol and her household.

"Somethin' what?"

Carol sighed deeply again.

"Look, Stan, I'll be honest with you. We… aren't as well-off as I told you," she said with a hint of apprehension and sadness in her voice. "I just said that because the kids were there, but… our marriage… it.."

Stan sighed, now noticing her beginning to break her otherwise altruistic demeanor.

"And you're tellin' me the only way I can help you is by taking the kids in?"

Carol paused yet again.

"...Yes."

"And why's that?"

"We're going to be heading off to marriage counseling. I… just don't want to trouble the kids with it… and so we thought of you."

Stanley stopped himself before responding. He now finally took some time to assess the problem and think about it. What would it take to take care of three kids? He wasn't sure if he was up to the task or not, but considering that he strongly felt as if though he was holding their fates in his very palm, he knew he had to make a decision.

"Look, Carol…" began Stan. "I'm gonna think 'bout it for a bit. I'll call ya again after I… fix up the rest of the place."

"Yes, of course, Stan. I'm going to tell Dan that I called you, okay?"

"Sure, sure. Talk to ya soon."

He put the phone down. The click of the handset on the receiver put his soul at a momentary ease, for he had made himself some time to think about his moves. Although he was rather indifferent to the situation regarding Carol and her husband, he couldn't help but think about the ones who would really suffer if he let complacency and indecisiveness take him over - the kids. He hadn't seen nor heard much from them, but one thing about them struck him like lightning ever since he took a one day leave from and traveled all the way to Piedmont itself and witness their birth - the fact that they're twins. It was something Stanley had always kept in mind and it was something that resonated with him much too strongly. Shaking that thought off and breathing one final sigh, as well as running his coarse hand over his glasses and face, he began trotting to the kitchen. All of the sound in the entire living room was limited to the muffled steps of Stan's slippers and humming of one of the lamps nearby. He was used to having the TV blur out some needless noise in order to distract himself, but the conversation he had with Carol and his intuition ignored that need and hence the entire room was nearly devoid of any sound. It was more uncomfortable that way, he thought, for with nothing to listen to or even watch, he was always left with his thoughts - and he never liked that feeling. From his unpleasantness, he found himself entering the vicinity of the kitchen with lightning speed and after turning the lights on through a flick of one of the switches, he began scanning the area. He established, in a matter of a few seconds no less, that Matt was not present in the room, which, although irking him at first, made him feel all the more curious as to his whereabouts. He knew so many places where one person could hide for ages in his brother's house - that is, without food or water and he was aware Matthew had neither. After deciding that there would be no point in looking for him, as he knew that he would turn up eventually and that he was surely in the area of the house, he went to the fridge to pick out some form of a snack. He decided on an ordinary Pitt Cola that was stationed on one of the lower rafts of the refrigerator. Proceeding to hastily pick it up, he heard some odd commotion behind him. Instantly, he turned around, nearly dropping the can bearing the cold beverage. Of course, it was none other than Matthew staring at him from behind.

"Yeesh, kid, I thought we settled on the scares," said Stan as he mentioned the first time he had frightened him only two days ago.

"Yeah… sorry about that," responded Matthew, emerging from the shadows and proceeding to rub the back of his head whilst bearing a giddy smile.

Stan found his attitude more than amusing and it garnered a smile in return, but his expression turned rather cold soon after as he remembered about the predicament he had to think about and deal with. Matt, on the other hand, remained indifferent - on the outside at least. He sat down on one of the chairs and so did Stan. They were faced with one another. Stanley sat quietly - he was lost in his thoughts. He knew he had to call Carol as soon as possible, and he was aware that he could only do so after he was done with Matt, as he had originally intended before receiving Carol's request, and has made up his mind.

"Ya hungry, kid?"

"No… not really." replied Matt with an apathetic tone.

Stan raised an eyebrow.

"Either you ain't a picky eater or you're lyin' to me. And I think you haven't eaten since, what, morning?"

Matthew let out a slightly frustrated sigh.

"Look, I'm just not hungry, Mr. Pines... "

Stan was about to interject when he saw him gesturing to speak once more.

"I… I took a snack from the vending machine," he told him as he looked him in the eye. "I saw some tourist doing a trick with it and getting something, so… I wanted to try it for myself. To see what would happen."

Stanley admired his honesty, even if he had to get it out and even if it was for something as simple as a snack. He let out a small chuckle.

"Kid…" he began as he smiled at him. "I'm glad ya did somethin' like that on your own. Even if I was mad, I'd still be happy that ya actually took a risk. Not 'ta mention that this was all for some lousy snack."

Matthew felt at ease from his response, seeing as Stan's disciplinary methods weren't at all similar to the ones he had hitherto been used to from the various nutjobs he has had the misfortune of bearing with. As a matter of fact, he thought, Stan's ways seemed quite unorthodox and he further solidified his belief by noting a couple of glaring examples from the two-day experience he had living with him. He was definitely something different, and that spiked his intrigue by a huge amount.

"Say, Mr. Pines…" began Matt with an inquiring tone in his voice. "You, um, run a tourist trap sort of thingie, right?"

"Yeah. Where're ya getting at? And you can just call me Stan, kiddo."

"Well, I've seen the way you act with your customers… not that I have anything against it…" he told Stan with a hasty and defensive tone. "It's even a bit funny seeing them get tricked, but..."

"But what?" asked Stan as he took a sip from his cold can. Although he wasn't particularly in the mood to be seemingly interrogated, he knew he had to listen to his concerns - he was sure his life up until a few days ago was a living nightmare and he wanted to not let him continue going through the same experience as he himself once had, especially considering his age.

"They're just nobodies to you, right?" he asked yet again and Stan gave only a slight nod in reply.

Matt paused. He darted his eyes around the corner of his eyelids, hesitant to say whatever he had in mind. He finally sighed and looked Stan in the eyes.

"Then… why did you take me in?"

Stan took a slow sip from his Pitt Cola. He slowly put it down on the table after refreshing himself yet again.

"Kid… have ya already forgotten what I told you when we-"

"I know what you told me," interrupted Matt. "It's just that… why did you do it then? That night? I… just…"

With a heavy sigh, Stan got up from his chair with his now empty can in hand. He walked to one of the nearby rubbish bins and disposed of it. He faced the mosaic glass window with hands behind his back and seemed to be contemplating something. Matt was now worried if he had done something to incur Stan's wrath.

"Matt… ya wanna know the truth?" he asked Matt as he turned to face him with a stern look.

"Yes…" he replied after slightly hesitating.

Stanley looked down at the poor wooden floor. He had made this correlation ever since he first saw him, but he never wanted to admit it to him.

"I… how do I say this.." he began. "That night when I first met ya, just by lookin' at you I saw a lot of myself in you. I'd be a bad businessman if I couldn't read faces and make up backstories from 'em. So I guess I went a bit soft on ya kid, heh. Just don't expect that when we're workin'."

Just as Stan had described in his little explanation, he instinctively read his face yet again. It emanated nothing short of pure awe and bewilderment. After realising he was surely weirding Stan out with his contemplative twitchings, he forced himself back into the dialogue.

"I… I don't know what to say. I'm sorry I had to make you say that, Stan… and also thank you."

"Eh, don't mention it, kiddo," he told Matt as he went to him and patted him on the shoulder. "Anyway, it's gotten pretty late, so you'd better start haulin' your butt up to your bed."

Matthew instinctively flinched at the mention of going to bed. He even started fumbling a bit and Stan wanted to ask him what was wrong, but he stood by his statement that it was quite late and he knew that time was beginning to run short.

"Come on, kid, it ain't gonna bite," he assured. "So, yeah, shower or whatever before you go, but I'm gonna check on ya later, aight?"

Matt let out a painful sigh.

"Fine…" he murmured as he began going up the flight of stairs leading to the second floor.

After making sure that Matthew was gone and not trying to spy on him from upstairs, he sat down yet again, but this time on the chair which Matt had previously been on. Unease filled him as he twiddled his thumbs and darted his eyes at the clock - 9:49 PM. It was close to midnight and Carol was surely still waiting for his answer. He didn't even know why he felt so apprehensive - money definitely wasn't an issue, nor was his ability to act as a de-facto guardian for three seemingly temperate children, with two of them being his family. He looked at the clock again - 9:53 PM. Being alone with his thoughts - a practice he yet again thought how much he had grown to loathe - made time flow seamlessly. It was now or never, yes or no, help or don't help, save or don't save.

Stanley barely composed himself. He got up and turned on the nearly busted radio nearby. With a clear mind, he reasoned and debated with himself, only to finally make a choice - it was the one he knew he would have to make in the end.

After a few minutes, the telephone rang. There wasn't a doubt in his mind as to the identity of the caller. Stan walked over to the device that rested upon the end table left to the armchair and picked up the handset, just as he had done less than an hour ago with a clearer and calmer conscience - that association alone made him internally laugh, for only now did he realise how much a single phone call changed his evening plans. Hearing noise and ensuring that the connection was active, he readied himself to speak.

"Stan!" greeted Carol, as if she had a headstart on him. "I'm so glad you answered! I wanted to ask if you, um, you know..?"

"Yeah, I have decided," he told her and breathed a deep sigh. "I'll take 'em."

"Thank you so much, Stan! I'll tell them immediately! By tomorrow, right? We did some research and found that they'll get there by afternoon."

Yet another sigh escaped Stan's mouth.

"Yeah, sure."

"Great! And again, thanks a million! I'm so sorry we had to do this, but Dan said you were the best person to ask. Anyway, have a good night, Stan!"

"Yeah, you too."

It was done. Now all that was left was telling Matt and the rest of his employees about the arrival of the, unbeknownst to them, second generation of Pines twins, as well as the cleaning of the attic room and its consequential suiting for accommodation. He knew that tomorrow he'd have to put the finishing touches for their living quarters, which only meant that he'd have to clean out the room now instead of working in the lab for the night. Without a moment's hesitation, he went up the stairs and soon found himself in the perimeter of the second floor. He wandered off to the left where the attic room layed. His gaze diverted to the many doors beset on the right wall and highlighted that, even after thirty long and painful years of living here, he still mistook the purpose some rooms and was sure that there were some built in that he wasn't even aware of. That was the consequence of living in someone's house and stealing his identity, he thought. Now that he thought about his brother, only now did he realise that by taking two more kids he would have even less time on his hands to work on rescuing him - that is, unless some miracle blessed him, but his progress had been stagnant for thirty years anyway, so what difference would it or the addition of two preteens from his family make? He had grown to like Matthew as well, sure, but it wasn't as if though he could help him - no one could, not even his family, and only bringing in more mouths to feed would only slow his work down.

He stopped walking.

How could he even think something like that, he rhetorically asked. It's… it's what Ford would say if he were here. He wasn't his brother, he wasn't a person that cared more about pointless scientific work more than his family despite having to do so for thirty years in a vain attempt to try and save him with one of the journals and despite being called "Stanford" rather than "Stanley" for a grueling half of his life.

He was Stanley.

But only he knew it. And he had to keep it that way.

He finally reached the door to the attic room. It was at the edge of the house itself and not far off from his own bedroom and the second bathroom. He extended his hand to the shaky wooden knob and began trying to pry it open. He eventually managed to do so, but the door itself flung open out the effort he had put into barging in and he fell to his shoulder blade and onto the dusty wooden floor. He got up and began patting and fixing himself up. Whilst doing so, he realised that in his hand he held the small, wooden knob. A grumble of utter frustration exited his lips as he looked at the state of the now knobless door and, as a matter of fact, the entire still-dark attic. He didn't know how or why he felt as if though an unpleasant aura permeated the atmosphere - maybe it was his underlying fear of this room and the fact that it always seemed rather peculiar for his taste. That, or a newly-developed fear of darkness, he jokingly thought. Leaving his thoughts and setting aside the door part, he began navigating through the darkness to find the light switch. After a fairly extensive search on the walls of the vacant room, he finally yielded a result and, after making sure that the switch he had found was indeed one for the lights, flicked it.

The entire room lit up out of the two functioning light bulbs that were mounted on the nearby support beams.

It wasn't that bad, Stanley thought, but there was surely work that was needed to be done. There were already two beds which were set amidst the corners at the end of the attic, yet there were still a couple of boxes filled with junk strewn around all over the floors and furniture - junk that comprised mostly out of Ford's outlandish experiments and other, more random stuff his brother had decided to store. Between the two parallel beds was a small, well-built wooden desk and near the edge of the right bed sat a small end table with a vase-shaped lamp on top. The glass triangle window that stood above Stanley and near the ceiling ushered in unnecessary and barely noticeable moonlight in the attic. Stanley continued examining the room, but his attention diverted to one of the boxes that held the so-called "junk" he had previously labeled as Ford's. From the information he had garnered in the now thirty years he had spent rigorously reading Stanford's journal, he quickly discerned that some of the things littered around in the many boxes weren't at all his brother's - among the things he dug through were a banjo and a pair of old leather sandals. There were also notes with illegible writing, as well as an entire computer in one of the others. It was strange, because as much as he had been away from Stanford, he knew that he would never buy nor use these items. That revelation made him wonder if his brother had ever written anything about someone else in his journal. He shrugged it off and decided that it'd be best if he started work on the hauling process and leave the speculations for later. The only problem that lingered on, though, was where exactly Stanley would have to haul them so they could be as inconspicuous as possible.

He looked around himself and the attic. Only after setting his sights upon a blue curtain did he remember how big the room really was, for the space behind that said blue curtain, he recalled, was enough to house double the amount of the four boxes he had to move currently.

"Perfect…" he muttered under his breath whilst bearing a mischievous grin and rubbing his hands together as if he had just struck the best deal of his life. "This will do fine…"

He'd be done with everything - the knob, the boxes and the entire room - in an hour or less, he thought with a smile on his wrinkled and tired face.


	5. The New Acquaintances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - As of publication, this is the last chapter I will post for now. More will come, but they will take a while. Hope you've all enjoyed the story up to this point!

Matthew's recently developed abhorrent relationship with one of the basic human necessities - sleep - has caused him more than his fair share of disruptions and, if he were to be honest with himself, made it hard to get through the monotone work days themselves. He barely managed to hide his tiredness from the prying eyes of Stan, for he knew that whatever the demon wanted from him had something major to do with Stan and he couldn't risk him finding out. But what it was, he hadn't a clue. He wondered why his mind kept going back and forth in a futile effort to solve this enigma. It was rather funny, now that he thought about it - his continuous pondering upon the many subliminal messages the demon had carefully put in dream after dream since he first met it. They did not offer even the slightest of answers. It wasn't as if the other journeys he had made to the Dreamscape through the volition of Bill Cipher were any different than the first time he had gone there - the only difference surely being the increase in surreal and convoluted imagery, as well as the aforementioned addition of cryptic messages. So why? Why was he still as frantic and horrified as he had ever been?

He ran his hand through his hair, sighing and laying his head on the oh-so-comfortable pillow once more. His annoyance grew tenfold while his thoughts continued straying in an effortless endeavour to answer his question. It was hard for him to stay awake and he knew that soon he'd be back in the other dimension. How long could he keep this up, his tired mind wondered, before he eventually succumbed to the inviting lull of insanity itself?

Another week?

He rested his head.

Another day?

He relaxed.

Another hour..?

He sighed.

Any… minute… now…?

He closed his tear-laced and weary eyes.

_And he did not realise it - how the darkness came again. He sensed the stinging familiarity he had felt ever since his first initiation into the world of dreams. Soon from the darkness would come the terrors that he dreaded. It was futile to resist, for he had already given up when he had decided to doze off. His lucidness didn't help the fact either, but it still made him want to escape somehow, to be free of the demon's grasp. He always somehow managed to look on the alluring optimistic side of all seemingly horrible scenarios - he didn't know why, but even he had his limits - and when they were broken, his mind entered a constant state of nihilistic suppression. It had happened a handful of times during his foster care days and, despite earnestly thinking that now he was finally ready to try and put his past behind him, now he couldn't help but feel as if though his pain would never end. It just seemed like every salvation - every light at the end of every dark and dreadful tunnel - was nothing more but a mere illusion of reprieve he had created for himself._

_He was a fool, after all. To think that someone would actually care for him._

_He was a nobody._

_But everybody knew it._

_And he could not change it._

_He ran these thoughts through his head as he lifelessly hung in the void. Although the entire concept of time in the Dreamscape was foreign to him, and if he were to be frank with himself, he wasn't sure if such a force even existed, he still had the hunch that by now he was supposed to already have been at least somewhere. It was wrong, he thought - either the demon was playing with him or something was really out of place._

_He felt something just then - not the pull out of the darkness and into the grasp of Cipher, but rather a sense of… warmth. He wanted to turn around and view the source of the said warmth, yet he could not. Its presence, contrary to the enigmatic and mystical feel of the others he had been subject to, was serene. Slowly, it engulfed him, but it did not change its demeanor whilst doing so - it did not suddenly burn with a fiery temper, nor did it dissipate like water poured over a fire. It was just there - existing only to seemingly pleasure him._

_He did not care._

_He just embraced it with a comfort he hadn't felt in his sleep for years._

_Maybe the nightmares were over, he thought, or maybe this was just a fluke._

_Either way, he enjoyed a dreamless night._

"Hey," said a rather hoarse voice as Matthew felt a touch upon his body.

"Hey, kid! Wake up!"

Flustering his eyes open, Matthew's view was immediately centered on the clearly annoyed face of Stan. Rubbing his head and eyes, he squinted the latter, trying to get a better look of the scenery that surrounded him as to assure his conscience that he was not, indeed, dreaming yet again. Only after having diverted his glance to Stan did he see his expression of utter confusion as to Matthew's thorough observing.

"Oh!" jumped Matt. "I'm sorry, Mr. Pines! Did I, um, oversleep..?"

Stan raised an eyebrow. Whilst doing so, Matthew noticed the presence of eyebags under his dreary eyes. It made him wonder - was he too suffering from sleep deprivation? If so, maybe he could empathise with his struggle?

"Yeah, you kinda did, kid. It's…" he paused. "Around half past 'leven."

Matthew frowned heavily at this and quickly got up from his bed, ready to begin the day as productively as one possibly could, so as to reprimand for his current blunder. Stan noticed his enthusiasm and let out a sigh.

"Look, Matt, you fix up and meet me for breakfast in 'bout fifteen minutes. I got something to tell ya. Capisce?"

Matthew only nodded, having been slightly unsettled, yet also intrigued by the fact that Stan wanted to share something with him at breakfast specifically. Seeing as there was no point in lingering in Matthew's presence, Stan made for a hasty exit through the door leading to the corridor.

"Well, that was awkward…" muttered Matt under his nose.

It wasn't long before Matt was done with the cleaning of his room entirely. Since he doesn't change his clothes at all, the only thing he really needed to do was fix up his bed and go the extra mile to clean up some taboo spots in the room. After finishing, he took a hearty look at his living space. It wasn't so bad, he thought - like most of the rooms in the shack, the ceiling had a handful of support beams that held the roof together. Compared to the various other spacious areas in the shack, this one did not differ much, apart from the odd presence of a hexagonal window on the ceiling that stood out as an odd design choice. His small bed, now tidy, sat in the upper left corner of the room, and next to it was a miniature end table with a vase-shaped porcelain lamp placed on top that made for a comfy cabin-like aesthetic. Aside from that, on the walls were strewn a couple of decorative art pieces that had a recurring theme of surreal imagery. He had also found various incoherent scientific notes and manuscripts under his bed and behind the dusty frames of the paintings themselves. Overall, the room had piqued his morbid curiosity from the moment he first set foot in it during that fateful evening, but due to the circumstances he had to deal with, he could not warrant himself an investigation. Mindless thoughts aside, after having eased his mind, he exited the room, now eagerly awaiting the news Stan had for him.

"Heya," greeted Stan as Matt entered the kitchen. "Take a seat. I'll be right with ya."

He did as ordered. For a while, he sat idly by as Stan searched high and low for something, or really anything, in the fridge. After he finished his fruitless excursion, he muttered something to Matthew and took off, leaving the boy in a state of confusion. Soon, Stan returned with two bars of chocolate in hand and threw one to Matt.

"Ah," began Matt as he cracked a smile. "Granola bars again, Mr. Pines?"

"Yeah, yeah," dismissed Stan whilst eating his own serving. "I couldn't find anythin' in the fridge, so I went to the vending machine. Surprisingly, my old tactic of shakin' it 'till it gave me somethin' worked."

Both shared a chuckle at Stan's explanation. Soon thereafter, Stan's expression changed into a cold and serious one.

"Anyway, about what I was gonna tell ya..." he began as he crossed his burly arms. "My great niece and nephew are comin' here for the Summer. They'll be stayin' up in the attic, next to ya, and are gonna work here in the shack. They should come somewhere 'round the afternoon and I'm gonna go pick them up from the bus stop nearby. I need you to run the place for a little before I get back. You got that?"

Matt hesitated, feeling a bit overwhelmed from the influx of information and rather shocked that someone would willingly come to live with Stan.

"Um… I think?" he replied.

Stan breathed heavily and ran his hand through his face.

"Alright, never mind, just keep this joint busy when I'm gone. For now, get your stuff from the broom closet and meet me in the gift shop."

Matthew responded with a determined nod as he gulped away his apprehension regarding the information Stan had told him. Soon, armed with a broom from the unrealistically small closet upstairs, he found himself in the shop, ready for work. As he was entering, he caught a glance of the staff of the Mystery Shack, as well as a small amount of tourists waiting outside.

"Hey dood, great to see ya!" beamed Soos upon seeing him.

Matt smiled back in response. Wendy also noticed his presence and acknowledged it by giving him a passive tilt of her head as a sign. Matthew wasn't bothered nor really surprised by this, for he had garnered from the short time he had spent with Wendy that this was simply the way she behaved - in a typical, dismissive teenager fashion.

"Alright, form up 'ere," began Stan as the trio of workers haphazardly lined up. "As usual, we got a jackload 'a tourists waiting outside. Now, after we scam these suckers I'm gonna need to step out for a bit and take care of some business. Wendy, Soos, I'm gonna need one of you to handle the tours while I'm gone."

At that order, Soos's expression quickly changed into one of clear delight, whilst Wendy remained as apathetic as ever, at most slightly annoyed if she were chosen to replace Stan. Matthew, on the other hand, felt rather disgruntled at the fact that he wasn't even mentioned as a candidate, yet ultimately he decided it'd be best had he kept his tongue behind his teeth.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Pines, sir!" ecstatically replied Soos.

"Good," affirmed Stan as he walked to the door and pointed at the crew of the shack. "Now get 'ta work!"

Immediately upon that, the door bustled open and Matthew saw, as he had the days before, how Stan's every trick of the trade was executed in an endeavour to scam as much money as possible from the naive tourists. For better or worse, he was beginning to pick up on most of it and even managed to pull off one on a distracted customer and earn some money of his own. He stopped himself for a moment and leant against the nearby wall for a tiny break from work. He wondered if this was what his life was going to be from now on - it was certainly odd and more thrilling than he'd like, but it was far better than what he had been used to with 'normal' families in other, more urban places. Nevertheless, when he was working, he kept to himself nearly all of the time, only occasionally exchanging banter with Soos and never voicing his own opinion about the many going-ons in the shack except when asked. He was extremely careful not to cause an accident that might slow down business or drive unneeded attention to him, as he had done only days beforehand, hence warranting his apprehension.

As the minutes went by and he felt the ever-increasing tumult of the tourists in the museum rise, he grew more and more worried, for he knew the hour in which Stan would depart would dawn soon. He was sure that he'd ruin Stan's great niece and nephew's first impression of him and, truth be told, he had actually come to terms with that, but nonetheless he was worried and unnerved about the fact that he'd have to face more and more challenges just to even live in the shack - whether it be simply providing free labour to Stan or having yet another group he'd be forced to bear with. Maybe that was the price he had to pay - maybe he was never meant to have a real family and was just facing insurmountable obstacle after insurmountable obstacle, only doomed to reach a breaking point in time. As he was cleaning one of the lower-height shelves, he began to realise that there really was no point debating himself, for his mind had already been plagued by the nightmarish thoughts he had continued reprising even until now. It didn't matter if it was with his outing with Soos, in the middle of the night or the first time he had met Stan - even after being reassured, comforted and, dare he think, even accepted by some, his mind was still hardwired to unyielding pessimism. He let out a painful sigh at that staggering realisation, and it was only amplified by his built-up nervousness. Unfortunately for him, it did not go unnoticed.

"Yo, you okay, man?" asked Wendy, seemingly out of the blue.

Matt was taken by surprise at Wendy's inquisitive nature. He fumbled around for a second before giving her an answer.

"Oh… um, yeah," he responded. "Just… sick of this work, heh."

Wendy immediately raised an eyebrow at that, which only served to frighten Matt.

"Come on, man, even I don't get that depressed at work." she chuckled.

"Well, I don't know…" he told her as he tried to quickly assemble an excuse for his apparently saddening aura. "I guess it's just the weird stuff that makes Gravity Falls stranger than… the other places I've been to."

"Yeah, you can say that again. You wouldn't believe some of the stuff I've seen coming to work."

Matt was intrigued, yet he had a hunch that whatever she had seen was nothing compared to his experiences.

"Well, what have you seen?" he asked.

"Man, where do I begin…"

And so, for a little while, Matt reaped the joys of having a discussion that differed from someone barking orders at him or inquiring about his life and took his mind off of his troubles. Although Wendy's experiences were odd, they weren't as severe as his encounter in the woods, yet he still found them entertaining to listen to. Soon enough, the tourists swarmed the gift shop and, despite Stan's best efforts, were done with their shopping rather quickly. Just as the last of the tourists exited at Stan's behest, so did he as well. Matt took a glance out of one of the nearby windows, only to see Stan's car exit amidst the crowd of buses. He also noticed the lack of oncoming tourists, which only served to indicate that they'd probably be alone whilst Stan was gone.

"Hey, Soos, do you, um... know where Stan is going?" inquired Matt as to understand if Stan had mentioned anything beforehand about his plans to his employees.

"Uh…" thought Soos. "No, dood, not really. Do you know?"

Matt hesitated for a bit, unsure if he ought to tell Soos of Stan's ordeals. He decided that there was no harm to be done if he let Soos know, since Stan would unveil his surprise soon anyway.

"Well, he said some family of his is coming is coming to live here for the Summer. I don't know much else myself..."

"Woah, Mr. Pines has family? Wait… you mean people, right?" intrusively asked Soos.

"Er... yeah?"

"Oh, okay… good," he finished with a suspicious look in his eyes.

"Why are you surprised that he has family?" asked Matt, keen on learning why Soos reacted in such a manner.

"Well, I dunno, dood. Maybe it's because Stan never mentioned anything about family before."

Matt also had to agree. From the time he had spent in the Mystery Shack and Stan, he also didn't recall him really talking about family of any sort.

"Okay, the-"

Just as he was about to ask Soos something else, he noticed Stan's car returning from the nearby window which he had also seen it departing. He was certain that he had brought his niece and nephew with him, as he could clearly see two heads poking out in the distance.

"Hey, what'cha looking at, dude?" inquired Wendy.

"Stan's here."

"Woah. Already? Well, so much for the peace'n quiet."

Just then, the door hustled open, and revealed an entering Stan, with two figures of much smaller stature following suit. All three of employees' eyes darted towards them, with Soos and Matt glazing with curious glances and only leaving one - Wendy - to wonder what was transpiring.

Matt also took a good look at them. As Stan had previously mentioned, one of them as a boy, and the other - a girl. Although both had begun to take glances around the gift shop, the girl's expressions made it seem that she was considerably more awed by the attractions than her brother, who, on the other hand, seemed a bit timid in Matt's eyes. He also took note of their odd clothing choices - the boy wore a dark blue vest with an orange shirt underneath, a worn-out cap that had a star embroidered on his head, and grey shorts, whilst the girl donned a seemingly handmade purple sweater and a skirt of the same colour. Both carried a handful of luggage, making them more akin to pack mules than vacationers.

"Alright, alright, settle down everyone," said Stan as he quickly went to reassess the situation for his employees. "Wendy, Soos, Matt, meet Marbles and Dooper, my niece and nephew."

"Ahem…" grumbled the boy.

"It's actually Dipper and Mabel!" piped up the girl's braces-induced hissing voice to Stan.

"Eh? Yeah, same thing," dismissed Stan. "Anyway, I officially welcome ya 'ta the gift shop, Dripper and Mabel!"

"It's…" began Dipper, but then hesitated and withdrew his correction. "Nevermind…"

"How's it hangin', squirts?" suddenly asked Wendy, grabbing the twins at surprise.

Dipper simply stood in one spot, staring awkwardly at Wendy with mouth agape. Clearly, his sister noticed this and decided to take the directive.

"Hi! My name's Mabel, but you already knew that!" she announced to Wendy and the rest of the crew again with an awkward laugh.

"I'm Wendy," she responded. "These two dorks are Soos and Matt."

Soos and Matt, having been mentioned and designated by Wendy, both threw a wave and a slight smile at Mabel.

"Ugh, cut the chatter already and go settle your butts up into the attic," interjected Stan. "I'll show ya to it."

Just as Stan finished, he began hustling Dipper to the direction of the stairway, while gesturing for Mabel to come along. Mabel, having been charmed by the small conversation she had with Wendy, waved a serene goodbye, and the three of them departed to the upper floor of the shack, leaving the workers alone once again.

"That was… interesting," noted Matt.

"Yeah, no kiddin', dood. The girl - Mabel - seems alright, though," admitted Soos.

Matt was inclined to agree. He approved of her straightforward and charming attitude - something he had seen only occasionally from benign strangers like Stan and his various foster brothers and sisters while he received their help in an otherwise abusive household.

"Eh. Don't tell this 'ta Stan, but I don't really like these 'niceness' acts. Gives me the creeps," stated Wendy.

"Maybe she's not faking it?" proposed Matt, inciting a curious look from Soos at the opposite of the room and a similar one from Wendy.

"Whatever," Wendy shrugged. "Guess we just gotta wait and see."

Soon thereafter, more tourists came in as the Mystery Shack resumed business for the day. On occasion, one of, if not both of the twins would come down from the attic and explore the shack, as well as take a gander at the exhibits and talk with either Soos or Wendy. Matt, on the other hand, simply remained in a bashful state when in their presence and stuck to doing his work - so much so that the gift shop was nearly spotless in every nook and cranny. This made sure that he would not make a scene or be caught slacking off by Stan. He didn't have anything against them, he thought, but he just needed to adjust for a bit in order to not completely defy their expectations of him. It was either that or something else that he harboured and only used that excuse as to justify his asocial behaviour. Either way, the day went on and closing hours began to near - Wendy and Soos were packing up their stuff and the last of the still-expensive tours were held. Stan expressed his disappointment of the inevitably unproductive day, but was more than glad that he was over with it anyway. As Matt was putting his tools back in the broom closet, he was startled by Stan's shouting from the kitchen.

"KIDS!" he yelled. "GET DOWN HERE!"

Trotting to the kitchen, he peered through the door frame to reveal Stan leaning idly on one of the counters.

"What's happened?" asked Matt, now in full view of Stan.

Just as Stan was about to answer, both of them heard footsteps from the stairway and soon enough, Mabel came in sight.

"What's the situation, great-uncle Stan-io?" she inquired as she scanned the room for anything out of the ordinary, only to notice Matthew standing next to her. "Oh, hi again!"

Matt returned a slight smile and a nod as Dipper came into the room with his vest lacking in his attire and no shoes present, either. He saw Mabel's close proximity to Matt and slightly pulled her away from him, much to his surprise and to Mabel's obvious annoyance.

"Well," began Stan. "Since your parents want you to 'ta stay healthy and whatnot, we're gonna have to have dinner."

"Have to?" piped up Dipper. "Don't you, um… usually do that?"

"Oh, he does it all of the time," interjected Matt, rolling his eyes. "Don't you, Mr. Pines?"

Stan's already annoyed expression coalesced into one of barely-quenched rage. He steadied his nerves, as it wasn't fitting of his character to lash out at children.

"Look, are y'all hungry or not?"

"We're alright, uncle Stan," said Dipper.

"Yeah!" beamed Mabel. "Mom gave us packed lunches for the trip!"

Matt slightly frowned at that statement. It seemed like such a mundane thing to them, but to have something made and then given for you - whether it be food, a roof under your head, or even something as abstract and easy to hand out as love - was a luxury Matt had only gotten to know now and at rare occasions in his life.

"Okay. Matt, what 'bout you?"

All eyes turned to Matt, with both parties awaiting his response.

"Oh, I… could go something. Small, though."

Stan nodded.

"Alright, ya two can go up to bed and fix up."

Upon hearing that, Mabel, seeing as her brother was about to protest, grabbed his hand and they both went upstairs once more.

"So, whaddya want?" asked Stan.

"Oh. Well, anything you have. I, um… don't mean to be picky."

Stan let out an exasperated sigh at that comment.

"Well, there's plenty'a stuff in the refrigerator," he began as he went and opened the said appliance. "Ya could make sandwiches or somethin'. It's up to you."

Matt, now glossing over the different rafts in the fridge while Stan stood behind him, breathed a heavy sigh.

"Look, Mr. Pines," said Matt, closing the fridge and facing Stan. "There's no need for you to do every single thing for me. I… I'm not a baby."

"Never said you were. Heck, you're the toughest kid I know and ya work twice as much as Soos and Wendy."

Matt was taken aback by Stan's revelation about his work performance. It was no secret that he stuck to working more than slacking off most of the time, but today even he had to admit that he went overboard with his scheme of evading the twins. He came to realise that by ignoring them, he had done the opposite of what he had set out to accomplish. Stan noticed his thoughtful state and decided to break the ice.

"Okay kid, if ya don't need anything else," he said. "I'mma be off. If you need me I'll be in my room."

Matt simply nodded in response as he saw Stan exit. After a moment's hesitation, he decided to take Stan up on his offer and make something for himself. He settled on making a simple salad out of some greens and, as he had dearly hoped, not-yet spoiled tomatoes that sat in the kitchen. While he was adding some of the last bits to his creation, he vividly recalled his previous culinary experiences - the times when he'd experiment in the kitchens of some of his interchangeable foster families whilst they were outing, of course leaving him alone. Out of those many tries, he learned how to cook quite the roster of traditional and simple meals quite well and he proved his abilities yet again. He didn't like to admit it, but it was something of a passion of his - one that he did not get to exercise often in a fulfilling manner, though, much to his dismay and especially now on a simple salad.

After a good while of picking at the served salad and tiresomely and slowly eating it, he put the plate in the sink. He tried to convince himself that something was wrong at the fact that he felt nutritioned after that small meal, but deep down he knew that it was because he was conditioned to be as such, so he didn't let it stick to his mind too much. He thought it was about time he had hit the hay as well and proceeded to climb the stairs in a rather drooling manner. When he got to the second floor, he immediately noticed the lack of a reliable light source activated anywhere, making the entirety of it pitch-black and rather frightening. Nevertheless, he gulped his fear away and began navigating the familiar darkness with one of his hands stretched out to the wall in an effort to find a light switch and the other in front of his face as to shield him. As he was trotting, he saw that the door to the upper bathroom had been opened and the light from it emitting through. He noticed the shadow of a figure and he instantly thought it as one of the twins, since Stan's would've been much larger and imposing, but he was unsure as to which one it might be. Either way, he wasn't noticed and began trying to navigate his way across to his room whilst remaining as such. He neared the doorframe and peeked, only to see the girl twin - Mabel - pouring herself water from the sink into a water bottle. It was more than obvious that she too would be heading for the attic as soon as she was done, so Matt realised he had to make haste. Slowly, but surely, he stepped into the arc of the light from the room and began tip-toeing as silently as he could. If tip-toeing was even a skill, he thought, he would've been a world champion just because of how many times he had been forced to do it in his life for various reasons. He had to admit, this was the dumbest one. As his heart was racing and he took step after step, Mabel suddenly saw him out of the corner of her eye and darted her expression to him. Out of panic, she let out a shriek and dropped her water bottle on the ground, causing some water to spill on the floor.

"Wait!" exclaimed Matt. "Wait, it's me!"

He stepped into the bathroom and revealed himself.

"Oh…" Mabel began as she came to the realisation of who had intruded. "It's you! Um… Matt, right?"

"Yes…? And you're… Mabel, right?"

"Yup!" she replied as she picked up her bottle and went close to Matt, extending her hand. "Pleasure to officially meet you, Mr. Matthew!"

Matt snickered at her grandiose and charming official introduction as he proceeded to shake her hand.

"Soo," Mabel said. "Where were ya headed to, Matt?"

"Oh," he replied, having been caught off-guard by her sudden questioning. "Um, to my room."

"Woah, you have a room all to yourself?"

"Yes…" he trailed off, not really looking forward to where the conversation was headed. "My, um, parents and I agreed to stay up here if I worked and they paid Stan. It's… strange, I know."

Mabel raised an eyebrow at that. Matt didn't like to lie, but this was one of the instances where he thought that it'd be better if he did as such instead of telling her directly. He knew he was shooting himself in the foot by doing this, but he couldn't do anything about it now.

"Well, thanks for keeping me company, Matt," she told him with a toothy smile. "But I'll go and see what Dipper's up to."

Mabel paused for a second.

"Hey, wait, you haven't met Dipper yet, have you Matt?"

"Um, I don't think so."

Suddenly, Mabel brimmed with excitement.

"Oooh! I can't wait to meet you two! We could go now!"

"Maybe he's asleep? I, um, don't want to wake him up."

She rolled her eyes.

"Psh, maybe you're right," she thought. "That's why I'll officially meet you both tomorrow! You can count on me, Mr. Matthew!"

She gave him a salute as to indicate the importance of her promise, which amused Matt, and brushed past him, giving him one final parting wave and, yet again, a smile.

"Heh, goodnight," he said as she was closing the door. "Welcome to Gravity Falls."

He now stood alone in the bathroom. Seeing as today fate was against his wishes, he decided that it'd be best if he stayed put in the room for a bit - not as to attest to any biological needs of his body, but rather to avoid any possible attempts of running into Mabel. He wasn't sure how or when he could possibly see her again, but he felt it wiser that he stay for a minute, just to be safe. If he were to be frank with himself, he was quite thrilled at the surprising turnabout of the conversation he had with Mabel - despite the dubious circumstances she had caught him in, she treated him as if though he was her friend all the way, not willing to question any of his motives due to, what he thought was, her non-intrusive personality. It felt heavily reminiscent of a handful of foster siblings and even some parents that he keenly remembered even to this day for their bouts of kindness in otherwise bleak households. Nevertheless, the whole experience just served as yet another reminder that in the weirdness that wholly engulfed the town of Gravity Falls, people were not exempt from that category either.

Judging that the time he had spent stalling was enough, he shut off the lights and too exited the bathroom, only to be greeted by a now fully-lit corridor. Mabel, he thought. She might've known where they were. Appreciating the fact that he wouldn't have to navigate through the seeming nothingness again, he began walking back to his room. Today was an interesting day, he thought as he observed the odd décor. He begrudgingly embraced the new and reminded himself of the old that he would never be able to let go of. His was a constant inner battle, the tide of which was always changing - some days he felt full with vigour and hope for the morrow, yet in others he lingered in the void that was his past. Sighing it off, he neared the door and instantly his mind changed to the other problem he had been plagued with and hadn't given much thought - Bill. He was glad that the demon had given him some reprieve from his torment, whether intentionally or not, and he had hopes that he had gotten get tired of him and decided to leave him be. It was either that, or it was all apart of his elaborate scheme which, from what he could discern from his various banter, involved Gravity Falls and 'all of those he cared about'.

All of this had made a thought in the back of his mind tingle. Maybe, as he had told himself countless times before, he needn't have to deal with everything on his own and today he felt as if though it was a testament to that. He had Stan, Soos, Wendy and, he hoped eventually, the twins on his side, yet he also wasn't sure if they could even help him in his strifes.

But he was certain of one thing, at the very least - change was on the horizon. He'd just have to sit tight and see what was to happen next.

He opened the door and went inside, ready.


	6. The Journal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Greetings again, AO3 community! If you've reached this point, that means you'll bear witness to the first chapter I have published on the site after my initial decision to transfer my work to this good site as well! Although you may notice some... time stumbles, I did manage to finish the chapter. So, I hope you all enjoy it!

A few days had gone by and the twins had begun to settle in with the spectrum of people that was the crew of the Mystery shack well. They both began working alongside them as soon as Stan managed to bring up the possibility of it in casual conversation, all the while secretly having had the notion of doing so even before they had arrived, much to their annoyance and to Matt’s already subverted expectations of Stan. Despite being forced to, they seemed to mostly enjoy it - with Mabel revelling in mediums other than work for her fair share of the time and Dipper, at first, simply sticking with his sister and occasionally Matthew, frivolously attempting to make awkward small talk with him, only after which slowly beginning to open up to the rest of the employees as the days went by. Slowly, but surely, they were becoming familiar faces to everyone around, but still mostly stuck to each other and Stanley out of the work environment. Overall, it was evident that the Mystery Shack had become much more lively with the inclusion of the twins to the staff and even Stan had to admit that morale was up.

Matt, on the other hand, only had occasional visits from Bill during the nights that more or less simply served to taunt him through a variety of ways - some plain and blunt as he had been used to and others more akin to the dream he had when he first met Bill - subtle and vague, with familiar imagery and symbolism that was, per usual, erased from his memory as soon as he woke up. What he didn’t want to admit was that he had strangely grown used to Cipher’s antics and began adapting to them, which, although rarely, actually tried the dream demon’s short and fiery temper. Every time he ignored him and consequently enraged him, Bill found a way to grab his attention once more and what ensued over a span of days and was still continuing was an elaborate game of an interchangeable cat and mouse.

It was noon for yet another seemingly boring day at the shack - tourists came and went, business ran rather slow and not much work was there to be done, warranting the present staff of the shack, excluding its proprietor, to mostly slack off and converse with one another. Whether it was Mabel chatting up Wendy on topics the latter didn’t seem all that interested or Dipper debating himself on the weirdness that he too had begun to notice in the town whilst Soos tried to desperately distract him with other topics he had personally deemed fit for conversation starters, the only one that seemed to be currently absent was, coincidentally, Matthew. He had gone outside on the porch of the shack to clear his mind and get out of the slew of personages that was the staff, if only for a while. He again berated himself over his isolationist habits that he clung desperately onto as a safety net in every new circumstance he was thrown in, but he knew there was no point in reminding himself of that redundant fact. He sighed and diverted his glance at the towering forest ahead, simply admiring the scenery.

“Hey, kid,” a familiar growling voice suddenly startled Matt. “What’cha doin’ out here?”

“Oh, um, nothing,” he said as he regained his thoughts and turned to face him. “Just sitting out here. Is something wrong…?”

“Nah. I was just wonderin’ where you were, ‘cause another bunch of suckers are gonna be coming soon.”

“Ah, don’t worry, Mr. Pines, I’ll be right there to clean up after them,” he replied with a good-hearted laugh.

“Oh yeah ya will! I won’t have you slackin’ off on my watch!”

Both continued joking around for a while, up until Stan noticed that it was apparently go-time and that they’d soon have to kick into high gear for the incoming customers. He gestured for Matthew to follow him, and he did as such without question, as they began navigating through already-familiar interior of the shack. In the midst of their way, Stan suddenly diverted the clear trajectory Matthew had, up to that point, thought they were on, and set his sights to the kitchen. There, on the table, laid a handful of signs that were hastily snatched away by Stan and safely tucked in the confines of his armpit, each varying in shape and some even in the material of which they were created.

“What are these for, Mr. Pines?” Matt asked as he gestured at the signs.

“Whaddya think?” he rhetorically asked while grabbing a Pitt Cola from the fridge. “They're ‘ta be put up.”

“Where?”

Stan shut the fridge and brushed past Matt.

“You'll see,” he said as the boy tailed after him.

“See _what_?”

Stan sighed, feeling a wave of annoyance flush over him at Matthew’s persistent questioning.

“Look, just go to ‘ta gift shop and I’ll be right with ya in a sec,” he ordered.

Rolling his eyes, Matthew begrudgingly left him to whatever he was to be doing. As he entered the gift shop, he saw Soos carrying a wooden step-up ladder and, in a monotone and slow fashion, begin putting it down and climbing it. Raising an eyebrow at its purpose and trying to be the initiator of conversation, he went to him.

“Hey, Soos,” Matt greeted, all the while eyeing the ladder and then him as well. “What’re you doing?”

“Oh. Hey, dood,” he replied, meeting his eyes. “Just fixing this shelf Mr. Pines saw the other day. You?”

“Waiting for Stan to come and tell me what to do. You know, business as usual.”

" **Oh yeah, Fez’s always busy like that,** ” Soos suddenly said in an instantly recognisable for Matthew voice, shaking him to his core and causing him to emit a small shriek out of surprise. Not only that, both of  Soos’ pupils, at a single blink, transformed into those exactly akin to Cipher's single eye, leading Matt to the obvious conclusion that he had done something to Soos. He began frantically blinking as to affirm if what he was seeing was merely a hallucination he had conjured up from loss of sleep or something very real.

“Dood? Hey, you alright?” Soos worrily inquired as everything had seemed to suddenly revert back to normal, affirming Matthew’s first presumption.

“Uh…” he responded. “Yes, I’m fine.”

Just as Soos was about to begin to question him more, Stan entered the room and soon everyone turned their attention to him.

“Alright, alright, look alive people,” he ordered. “I need someone to go hammer up these signs in the spooky part of the forest.”

“Not it!” Dipper suddenly piped up with a held up finger, stirring a chain of the same quote from the rest of the potential candidates only a moment thereafter.  
  
“Uh… also not it?” replied Soos, realising it had finally been his turn.

“Nobody asked you, Soos,” affirmed Stan.

“I know, and I am comfortable with that,” Soos gleefully said.

“Wendy?!”  
  
“Uhh,” she moaned. “I would, but… I can’t… reach it…!”

“I’d fire all of you if I could,” constated Stan. “All right, let’s make it… Eeny, meeny, miny… you!”

He had pointed at Dipper.

“Aw, what? Grunkle Stan, whenever I’m in those woods, I feel like I’m being watched!” exclaimed Dipper.

“Ugh, this again,” said Stan, rubbing his eyes in exasperation.

“I’m telling you, something weird is going on in this town,” he stated, piquing Matt’s attention and making him raise an eyebrow at the fact that even someone as new to Gravity Falls as Dipper had noticed its paranormality. “Just today, my mosquito bites spelled-out ‘Beware’!”

Stan squinted his eyes, taking a closer look at Dipper’s mosquito-bitten arm.

“That says ‘Bewarb’.”

At that comment and Dipper’s consequent realisation, he quickly retreaded his point and unnervingly rubbed his arm in defeat.

“So quit bein’ paranoid! Heck, come ‘ta think of it,” Stan mused as he turned towards Matt. “You do all your work?”

“Yes…?”

“Then go with him. The more-er, the faster-er!”

Dipper eyed Stan uncomfortably upon hearing that order, for he knew it wouldn’t be the bestest of ideas pairing them both. Nevertheless, Stan didn’t exhibit much care and quickly shooed them away. Begrudgingly, both headed out, each bearing a handful of signs, as well as a hammer and some rusty nails. From the moment the two set out, it was clear that a lingering and awkward silence had been bound to set in, as neither of them uttered a word for a good while. Matthew was wondering what to say as to spike some form of conversation, all the while keeping a close eye on their surroundings and the path they were on. For his objective, he reminisced of when Mabel officially introduced them only a day after they had arrived and he had met her. Much to his dismay, his inattentiveness during then didn’t help now in conjuring up a means of discussion.

“So…” Dipper suddenly began with a rather offensive tone in his voice, grabbing Matt’s attention. “Where are you from, Matt?”

“I… um, I’m from a little bit south. My parents decided to send me up here for a while. Don’t ask why…”

Dipper simply nodded in response, despite feeling unsatisfied with the answer he was given. As the minutes went by, they finally reached their destination and began working on the nearby trees.

“By the way,” said Matt as he finished putting up a sign. “I believed you when you were telling Stan about the paranormal.”

“Really?” he asked, stopping his hammering out of disbelief and turning to face him.

“Yeah. I’ve also… noticed some weird stuff going on in this place,” he told him, deciding to spare the details about his encounters with the Yeti and Cipher. “But… there’s something weird everywhere, so…”

“You’ve been to a lot of places?” asked Dipper, catching Matt off-guard.

“Um… yeah. I have.”

Despite feeling all the more suspicious of the answer Matthew had given him, Dipper decided to keep quiet yet again. Only after the recent revelation he had heard from Matt, he felt that his previous prejudices - including the unease he experienced when Stan executed his bright idea of putting them together - against him might’ve been, although aptly so at first, still misplaced. Suddenly, while still in thought and proceeding to put up the last of his signs, Dipper heard a clanking sound upon hitting the nail to the hardened stem of the tree.   
“Um… what did you hit?” asked Matt, having also heard the commotion.

“I… I’m not sure,” muttered Dipper, proceeding to tap his hammer on the stem again, only to confirm what they had heard.

“I’ve seen things… but I haven’t seen a tree made of metal yet, heh,” joked Matt.  
“It’s not the whole tree…” Dipper said as he examined the bark. “This part has dust on it!”

“Wait, what do you mean?” inquired Matt as he began going over to investigate as well.

Just then, Dipper pulled the dusted segment of the seeming bark and it opened as if it was akin to a safe door. Inside was a metal compartment spanning the width of the tree and containing a variety of panels and controls, neither of which clued in Dipper, nor Matt, as to the reasons for the compartment’s existence.

“Woah,” mumbled Matt, who stood behind Dipper in awe. Without any warning, Dipper suddenly flipped one of the switches and both heard a piercing sound on their six, only to turn around and discover that a part of the ground had seemingly given way. Quickly brushing past Matt, Dipper trotted to the new point of interest and knelt, only to find that it was simply another metal-surrounded storage space, with the key difference being that there instead of what he had expected - more panels and gadgets - there laid a journal, entangled with cobwebs and unrecognisable by years of built-up dust. Picking it up, Dipper proceeded to wipe away the entanglements, unraveling the cover of the journal - a red textile with a golden six-fingered hand glued in the middle, the number “3” embroidered on it.

“Okay…” uttered Matt, now also eyeing the journal. “No metal tree, but someone with a really strange obsession with this book. Yeah, I’d take the tree.”

“Who could’ve done this? Why put a book in the middle of nowhere?” asked Dipper, turning to Matt for answers and only receiving a shrug in return. Keen to learn the details about the book and to possibly provide himself with an explanation of its mysterious and dubious whereabouts, Dipper finally pried open the book.

“‘It’s hard to believe it’s been sixteen years since I began studying the strange and wondrous secrets of Gravity Falls, Oregon’,” he read with astonishment, shifting through the pages and their diverse content on the paranormal of Gravity Falls.

“Woah, look at all of this,” exclaimed Matthew. “This is probably years of work.”

“There’re also probably even more of these,” noted Dipper, referring to the mysterious “3” on the cover, as he finally stopped on one of the author’s last entries. “‘Unfortunately my suspicions have been confirmed, I’m being watched. I must hide this book before ‘he’ finds it. Remember, in Gravity Falls…’”

“‘There’s no one you can trust…’” finished Matt, seeing Dipper’s abrupt pause, and thereafter instigating a sense of uneasiness in the atmosphere between the two.

“ **HELLO!** ” yelled out Mabel from behind them, having been hiding under a log the entire time. “What’cha two doing? I heard Dipper reading some nerd thing and I thought I’d save you from being boooored to death!”

“Eh, thanks…?” replied Matt, frankly feeling weirded out.

“So, what’re you doin’, huh?”

“Er, um…” fumbled Dipper before Matt got a chance to say anything. “It’s nothing!”

“‘Uh-uh, it’s nothing!’,” imitated Mabel. “What, aren’t you both gonna tell me?”

“Er… let’s go somewhere private,” offered Dipper, receiving a nod from Matt in agreement. The three set off to the Mystery Shack and Dipper, speeding through, having been heavily entrenched in the Journal’s writings, left Matt and Mabel quite a few steps behind.

“Oh,” Mabel cheerfully sighed. “Dipper found his girlfriend for the Summer!”

“Is he always like that?” asked Matt with a small laugh in-between.

“Well… even back in Piedmont, he’s always cooped up with some science-y book and reading it all the time. I guess this is probably gonna the same.”

“Looks like it.”

“Yeah, and we can’t stop him now even if we tried.”

“ _Have_ you ever tried to?”

Mabel let out a small sigh, and it became clear to Matthew that there was something on her mind.

“Sometimes. I just… I want to help him get out there, y’know? I don’t hate his books or whatever, but it’s made bullies make fun him and I just don’t want the same to happen here…”

“I see,” nodded Matt in understanding. “If it makes you, um, feel any better, this town has a lot more weirdness than what I’ve seen from Dipper.”

Mabel snickered at that supposedly comforting statement.

“Well, I hope you’re right. And… thanks for telling me that. Maybe it’s gonna be different here.”

“Hope so. And… no problem,” muttered out Matt, returning another laugh from Mabel.

“Come on, let’s catch up to him,” she finished as she began treading across the path, with Matt following close behind. Soon enough, they reached the shack, only to find Dipper already there, in the living room.

“You won’t believe what we found, Mabel! Grunkle Stan thought I was being paranoid, but according to this book, Gravity Falls has a ‘secret dark side’!” exclaimed Dipper, all of this being relatively known to Matthew already.

“Woah! Shut up!”

“And get this, at one point, the pages just… stop. Like the person writing it suddenly vanished!”

“Eeh, I wouldn’t go that far,” interjected Matt, seating himself on the floor. “Anything could have happened.”

“It’s still really… _paranormal_ ,” highlighted Mabel, only causing Matt to roll his eyes. Suddenly, as Dipper was about to tell of yet another element of the journal, the doorbell to the door rang.

“Um, who’s that?” inquired Matt with a quizzical expression.

“Welp, time to spill the beans!” she exclaimed, knocking over a coincidentally-placed can of beans to accentuate her point. “This girl’s got a date!”

“Wait, in the half-hour we were gone, you already managed to find a date? How?” asked Dipper.

“I second that question,” uttered Matt.

“Well, what can I say? I guess I’m just _irresistible_!”

Another doorbell ring emitted out of Mabel’s complacency, this time of a clearly much hastier demeanor.

“Coming!” she shouted, being on her feet the moment thereafter.

Soon enough, the door was already wide open and Mabel was engaging in lighthearted discussion with her supposed date. As Dipper was trenched in the journal, he barely reacted to Stan poking out through the doorframe, yet luckily still managed to do so fast enough to mask the journal with one of the odd magazines out of Stan’s vibrant collection hidden close to the armchair.

“What’cha reading there, slick?”

“Oh, u-um… just… ‘Gold Chains for Old Men’ magazine…?”

“Ah, that’s a good issue.”

“Hey, family!” Mabel shouted, grabbing the attention of the three denizens of the living room and redirecting it to the figure next to her. “Say hello to my new boyfriend!”

The sight was one that beckoned a suspicious tingle in everyone’s backside but, of course, Mabel’s. The seeming boyfriend was one of a taller stature than its significant other, with a rather pale face that’s features remained mostly shrouded by a drooping bang, and made it so all that was perceivable was one of his eyes and a weird reddish liquid on one of his cheeks. He also bore a black hoodie with a cowl to complement his enigmatic appearance.

“Sup.”

“Hey…” responded Dipper, already worrisome of the figure.

Matt, on the other hand, simply gave a small nod of acknowledgment and a look that shared, to a degree, Dipper’s apprehension.

“How’s it hangin’,” replied Stan as well, not actually keen on receiving an answer.

“So… how do you two know each other?” inquired Dipper.

“We met at the cemetery. He’s really deep,” explained Mabel, as she grabbed his forearm affectionately. “Oh, little muscle there. Don’t know where that… came from.”

“And what’s your name…?” asked Matt before anyone else could.

“Uh… Normal… MAN!”

“He means Norman,” assured Mabel.

“Are you bleeding, Norman?” questioned Dipper, referring to the red liquid on his cheek.

“Er… it’s jam,” deflected Norman, causing Mabel to gasp.

“Jam?! Oh, I love jam! Look at this!”

“So… you wanna go hold hands, or something…”

“Oh… oh my gosh,” flustered Mabel with a nervous laugh. “Don’t wait up!”

As Matt and Dipper were still trying to discern when and how Mabel had garnered her boyfriend, the supposed lovebirds had already waltzed off from their view.

“I’m… gonna go upstairs…” announced Dipper while nonchalantly stuffing the journal in his vest, after realising there was nothing of interest for him in the living room anymore, and beginning to head to the attic. “I forgot something in my room!”

Matt had a strong inkling as to why Dipper had decided to leave - it was almost surely to continue his reading of the journal, but something didn’t quite add up for him - and that was why. Why had he decided to vanish upstairs, instead of just stay here? Maybe, Matthew thought, hinging what Mabel had told him, that Dipper simply preferred his own company in such endeavours, a bit like how he himself had been used to. Or maybe he just didn’t trust him with the journal’s secrets yet, despite both of them having found it? He didn’t want to believe that was the case, but the thought had lingered at the back of his mind ever since Dipper had seemingly confiscated it for himself. Nevertheless, it’s not as if though he was really enticed by the journal much, but he still didn’t feel it fair that he couldn’t at least have a few queries of his - such as his encounter with the Yeti - explained.

“Hey,” piped up Stan, glancing up from the magazine he had been re-reading. “Where’d Dipper go?”

“Oh, he said he forgot something upstairs,” answered Matt, omitting the existence journal.

Stan slowly nodded in response, not really being surprised.

“Say,” mused Stan. “y’know how Dipper went on ‘bout the ‘paranormal’ this mornin’?”

“Yeah…?”

“I hope ya didn’t tell him about the crazy stuff we saw couple ‘a days ago,” he said. “It’s gonna do no good if he goes ‘round looking for trouble and _things_ like that one.”

Matt nodded in agreement. He felt bad for lying to Dipper about a number of things, but this one he felt it necessary as well, for he knew that if he had told him, it’d be in direct opposition of Stan’s goal of keeping him in the dark, and that’d be the last thing he’d want - to be on Stan’s bad side. So he decided that, for now, he’d adhere to Stan’s wishes, yet keep the journal a secret as to not get both of them in trouble.

“No, I didn’t.”

Stan smiled, inwardly feeling a rush of relief.

“That’s good, kiddo. We ought’a keep it between you and me,” affirmed Stan with a wink. “Welp, I’m gonna go contemplate my existence for about fifteen minutes and then wait for more suckers.”

Upon hearing that, Matt felt that his hard conversation with Stan had finally ended, but, much to his dismay, he didn’t account for Stan’s keen-eyedness.

“Hey, one thing I was also wonderin’ about,” began Stan, leaning on the doorframe. “Did any’a you find anything out there? I think I saw Dipper fiddlin’ with something when I came.”

A chill ran down Matthew's spine. Just as he thought he had gotten out of the woods, he was faced with yet another test of his resolve.

“Umm, no…?” he quickly replied in his best effort not to invoke suspicion in Stan.

Stan raised an eyebrow, making Matthew immediately pick up on the unfavourable outcome his plan had concluded to. After all, he remembered, lying to Stan was almost always a losing battle.

“You ain’t lying to me, are ya?”

He quickly shook his head, feeling terrible about what he was doing, but if he were to recall how many times he has had to lie in the face of his foster parents, he might as well have gotten used to it already. Sadly, the difference here was that he had a much bigger respect for Stan than his previous carers, and it made lying to him extremely heart-wrenching and difficult.

“Huh,” answered Stan in confusion, trying to connect the dots in hopes of somehow explaining what he had seen, yet deciding that he’d think upon it later and not drool on it now. “If ya say so.”

Finally, Stan left the room and Matt felt calm, or as calm as he could be in the given situation really. He thought himself at a moral impasse, for having to resort to building such a network of lies in a vain attempt not to create any conflicts between himself and the members of the Pines family disgruntled him, yet he found no other feasible alternative for the moment. Letting out an exasperated sigh, he proceeded to get up and attend to his duties.

But something was wrong - he couldn’t get up. He felt strangely constricted to the hardwood floor and, despite his best efforts, couldn’t move an inch. It was as if though both body and subconscious were working against him, hindering any form of motion and placing him in a lethargic state. Then, he felt it - the loss of orientation, the weariness of his eyes, the relaxing of his muscles and the horrifying realisation that he was falling asleep, or, in other words, entering the Dreamscape. He resisted tooth and nail, not willing to be tormented by Bill once more. No matter what he did, though, and no matter how much he struggled, he couldn’t stop the inevitable, as he felt his mind was giving up the will to fight, and he realised that he’d been beaten. With one last conscious thought, he vowed to himself that Cipher’s toying would end here and now.

And he fell asleep, again.

_“Hey there, short-stuff!” echoed the Demon’s voice inside of the throne room he had first met him in. “Long time no see, huh?”_

_“Come out, Bill!” demanded Matt, feeling offended by Bill’s condescending tone. “I’m not afraid of you!”_

_Bill simply sighed._

_“When will ya learn, kid?” he asked. “I. Will._ **_Always._ ** _Be. With._ **_YOU!_ ** _” he shouted, his voice ringing in both of Matthew’s ears, and, having finished his threatening sentence, finally appeared in front of him in his usual form, and, as always, emitted a daunting aura. In truth, Matthew wasn’t that, if at all, phased anymore from Bill’s manipulation of the Dreamscape and actually strived to lead Bill onto that through his indifferent expression._

_“Who says so?” he asked calmly._

_“I do. I’ll always be there in one form or another! Plus, this place specifically is, well, kinda my joint if you haven’t noticed,” he replied, obviously alluding to the_ _décor_ _of the throne room, which, of course, reflected on his narcissistic tendencies. “So as long as you keep having that imagination of yours that really likes to dream, I’ll be here!”_

_Matt sighed._

_“What do you want, Bill? You usually don’t come to ‘talk’ unless you want something,” he noted, cutting to the chase._

_“Ha! I like your intuition! You’re gonna need it!” he laughed. “But, you’re right, I didn’t make you snooze off just so I can see you. I wanted… a game of chess!” he revealed._

_“Chess…? I, eh, don't know how to play chess.”_

_Bill's one eye emitted a clear feeling of dumbfoundedness at that._

_“Really, lightning bolt? Fine, here,” he said, snapping his fingers, to which Matthew instantly became cognizant of the rules. “Now, the terms-”_

_“Terms?” interrupted Matt._

_“It’s bad manners to interrupt your superiors,” scolded Bill with a look of annoyance. “So, in short, if I win, I get your body for that short while we talked about, and if I don’t… well… I guess I can cut off on the visits for a while!”_

_Matthew stood, confused if what he was hearing really did exit out of Bill's unspecified vocal cords, whilst trying to process Bill's words. He felt quite appalled at the opportunity to finally have a shot at getting rid of Bill, even if not forever, and nearly just decided to blurt out ‘yes’ in compliance. Yet, he steadied himself, and asked - was it worth it? What catastrophic damage might Bill inflict if he agreed and lost, granting him full permission to finally possess his body? But, on the other hand, how cathartic would it be for him to finally be set free?_

_“Come on, kid, I won’t pressure you like last time, but you’re gonna wake up eventually. So,” he said, extending his hand again. “Going to disappoint me again?”_

_Were he to do so, Matthew wondered, once more? Obviously, it had never been his goal to try and win Bill over, for he knew that were impossible, but to try to the furthest of his own will to resist his influence and to attempt to predict each and every next move that might follow. And now he had the unique opportunity to be seemingly equal to Bill in terms of power on his own playing field - all limited of course, by the constraints of a game of chess._

_“Are you gonna try anything funny?” inquired Matt, having reminded himself of that occurring._

_“Ha! Of course not, kid! I don’t deal dirty,” Bill replied, not even accounting the possibility of loss._

_Matthew frowned, diverting his glance away from Bill’s eye. He wasn’t fully enamoured by either side and he knew he needed more time to make a rational decision. But deep within him a fire of determination felt kindled - one that knew nothing short of total success in his endeavours and one that was eerily unfamiliar to Matthew. He knew this wasn’t just between himself and Bill anymore - the fate of the world itself was surely dependent on what machinations Bill had planned to execute if he eventually caved into his torturing and willfully gave his body. It was all or nothing, deal or no deal. That’s why, now looking Bill straight in the one eye, he had finally made his decision._

_For the time for rationality had ceased, and the game was to begin._

_“You’re on,” he sternly said, shaking his hand._

_“Oh boy, this is going to be fun!” exclaimed Bill as he, with a clap of his hands, summoned a large, clearly well-made chessboard. On Bill's side were the marble figurines dyed a chilling black, and Matthew was left commanding the equally as majestic white army._

_“Your move, lightning bolt!”_

_Flustering at Bill’s statement, he quickly reminded himself - white goes first. He was heftily unsure of which pawn to move, though, due to only very recently being introduced to the basic rules, and, to an extent, the game itself, so precise and carefully thought-out tactics, as well as deliberative counterplay, were out of the window. Still, he grabbed the pawn at D2 and moved it a single space, officially signalling the beginning of the game, and earnestly hoping for the best._

_“Did you even try with that one, kid?”_

_Matthew only shot a look of disdain at Bill's way._

_“Yeesh, okay.”_

_And so both continued playing - the throne room being as quiet as a graveyard, with only the sound of the players’ voices and their respective chess figurines’ movements echoing throughout. The silence unnerved Matt, who constantly had a feeling he had made a horrible mistake by dealing with Bill. This hunch of his had been garnered largely due to Bill's placid demeanour in the execution of his moves, which, contrary to Matthew's, remained as such even in a position of seeming peril, which, although infrequent, still occurred._

_Soon enough, the game had progressed to a point where it became increasingly evident that Matthew had begun to expend a good amount of his resources in his vain attempts at outsmarting Bill. It felt as if though the demon had an answer to every futile tactic of his, he thought, and that haunting possibility only served to amplify his pent-up apprehension. Knights were moved to E4 in a foolish naivete, bishops were hopped to B5 and therein met their end, rooks were carefully set about to H6 only to be retreaded back with no clear motive - and still, Matthew did not give up, at the very least not completely._

_However, the state of the board quickly changed to a point where the situation was undeniably dire. It was more than obvious by now that Bill had a very specific tactic in mind when it came to defeating him - it was a crushing offensive, capitalising on the mistakes of newcomers like him, ruining not only any chances of them winning, but also demoralising them to an extent such as Bill has._

_“Well?” Bill asked, floating on an imaginary armchair, interrupting Matthew’s thinking. “Is that it?”_

_Matthew looked away, unable to come up with anything and process if he were really going to lose, if he were to bring about the end of the world because of his stupidity, and if he were to lose everyone he had ever cared for as a result. In a last move of utter desperation, he forcefully played an obvious illegal move by moving his queen away from one of Bill’s traps and placing her next to his king._

_“Uh…” Bill stumbled in bewilderment. “You know you can’t do that, right?_

_“Yeah,” he replied in a shaky voice, trying to regain his composure. “But… it’s still there.”_

_“Fine, let’s change that,” he conceitedly said, extruding his hand to grab the figurine._

_But he couldn’t move it. The queen as if though remained glued to the board, and did not budge._

_“Huh?” Bill asked in surprise. “Come on!”_

_His hand writhed and contorted in the most unimaginable ways, but to seemingly no avail. Suddenly, as he was about to just quit and move on, a forcefield, more akin to a barrier, spawned over the figure, which not only prevented Bill’s intervening, but did not allow him to even touch the perimeter of the square on which the queen stood. This odd chain of events, coupled with the conversation he had with Bill before the beginning of the game, gave Matthew an ingenious inkling to why Bill had been oddly limited._

_“Hey... if my pawns can resist your influence,” he wondered. “Does that mean you_ **_really_ ** _have total control here? Is it even… your Dreamscape? Or do we both share it?”_

_Bill’s eye twitched to what Matt discerned to be both confusion and petrification at his presumption, with a slight tinge of annoyance, even._

_“Maybe I can just... imagine that I move my knight here as well, without your control, since you said you won’t do anything to cheat...” he noted, rolling his eyes, now feeling a rush of exuberance overcoming him at the thought of what he could accomplish. “And… I think you skipped some moves by trying to move my queen just now, heh.”_

_Bill attempted once more to forcefully move the figurine back to its former position, yet again the forcefield engulfed the square in its entirety. Matthew simply continued moving his pawns over those of Bill’s, taking them and quickly turning the tide of battle._

_“No!_ **_NO!_ ** _” shouted Bill, his eye now glowing a blood-red colour and triangular figure morphing into a much more daunting and sizeable one. But Matthew, despite feeling quite dreadful of that sight, was protected from Bill’s onslaught by the stalwart barrier, which had now grown to encompass not only the chessboard, but himself as well. He knew he was close, so much so that he couldn’t allow himself to let up now or be complacent in even the slightest - he had to win, he was_ **_going_ ** _to win. All he had to do was reach the king, who felt ever so close. One by one, the pawns, whose allegiance was clearly to Bill, and obstructed the path to his checkmate, fell, as he moved his army over the tumultuous pounding of Cipher. It was no longer a game anymore - but a battle for seeming survival._

_Finally, after a one-sided assault, he reached and beleaguered the king. Glossing over it, he deduced that its fate was, much to Bill’s detriment, unavoidable now._

_“Ha,” laughed shakily Matt. “Checkmate, Bill.”_

_“_ ** _NO!!_ ** _” he erupted in fury, trying with one last strike of both his humongous hands to annihilate the barrier._

_But upon impact, only a white light surrounded Matt’s retinas and he felt a huge push catapult him away. As if though stunned by a flashbang, only after a short while was he able to get up from his prostrate position and make out anything with a squint of his eyes - unsurprisingly, there was Bill, who he noticed was not exactly keen on even looking at him, but moreso, both of them now weren’t in the prestigious throne room anymore, rather in the dark void where he had first found himself in all those long weeks ago._

_“Well, kid,” Bill began, with hands behind his back, and proceeded to turn his triangular body shape 180 degrees as to face him. “Good game!”_

_The demon’s cheery tone emitted a quite dubious aura, as it had always been characterised by a sense of condescendance and elitism, so for it to be present in his seeming defeat, was worrisome at the very least for Matthew._

_“Yeah…” he replied, rubbing his eyes. “What did you do…?”_

_“I did say that if I’d lost, I would’ve cut down on tormenting you for…” he stopped, opening a fancy interdimensional pocket watch out nothingness to remind himself. “About the next month and a half!”_

_Matthew gulped upon hearing that - he was ecstatic to have stopped him, of course, but the fear of his inevitable return was surely one to keep him awake at nights and motivate him to spend his time more wisely. Possibly by trying to find a way to stop him, he thought hopefully._

_“So… how long until I wake up?”_

_“Oh, this is yours for now, lightning bolt! You can control it, since I basically gave you lucidity with all our fun together!”_

_“Luci… what?” inquired Matthew._

_“Ugh,” moaned Bill in frustration. “Look, I’ve gotta go. You can wake up when you want or just wait it out.”_

_“Bu-!”_

_“_ _Adiós_ _for now, kid!” he waved and, with a spark of bright blue bright, ceased to exist in his mind._

_He was finally alone in the void once more. The realisation of Bill’s presence finally being nonexistent was more than a relief, but he had to admit that, on one side, he was going to miss the thrill of dreaming - that is, if he ever even stopped, he thought, or just continued to be greeted with the calm disposition of the nothingness. Whatever the result, he had to be ready for the time when he would inevitably meet Bill again, but currently, seeing as there was not much he could accomplish by staying here, he willed to wake up._

_Yet, nothing happened. Why didn’t it work, he asked in confusion. The demon did tell him that he could wake up at any moment, but the problem was that he didn’t tell him how. He had to find a way, he deduced, as that might help in his next meet with him._

_As he stood, he suddenly felt the familiar white flash of light emit near him, pulsating in a monotone fashion. It was only until he came closer to it that he realised that it was not pulsating, but actually expanding, revealing the real world through his eyes. That’s when Matt realised that he was finally waking up, and the way he did differed heavily from when he had Bill in his mind, which pleased him. As the light expanded across every nook and cranny of the void, so too did Matthew finally felt at ease, for he was going back. Eventually, the light broke halfway through the nothingness, his vision returning, as well as his senses._

And he woke up. It took him a while to realise, but yes, it had been indeed true. Slowly and steadily lifting his torso off the carpet, he was soon beckoned by the realisation that he had slept for an unnervingly long time, for he could see the defining beams of the dusk Sun glaring all the way through the kitchen window, which, although to be relatively expected given the length of the dream, still felt surprising to Matthew. Yet, rubbing his eyes and, with a stretch of his body, he finally got up, feeling more exhausted than refreshed. Shrugging it off, though, he trudged down the hall to the gift shop to see if anyone had even noticed he had been sleeping this whole time. It was only then did he begin recollecting what he could of his dream - the game, the deal, and everything that followed suit - and trying to deduce a sensible meaning behind it. Why would Bill ever give him such an opportunity, he wondered for the umpteenth time, unable to come up with much. Maybe he had finally gone impatient with him and willed to use his body as soon as he could, but, having underestimated his will to resist, lost in his hubris. The possibility that he had gotten on the demon’s nerves and caused him to hasten his plans, therein paying heavily, thoroughly pleased him, yet also, in a way, worried him, as he would hardly be able to accomplish something of the sort again.

Soon enough, he reached the gift shop and the first thing he noted was the expected absence of Soos and Wendy, having been sent off for the day. What piqued his interest, though, was the fact that Stan had already begun to clear up stock and close shop as well, which just didn't seem right.

“Hey, where were ya?” Stan questioned, having noticed him in his peripheral vision, and obviously not having noticed him sleeping beforehand.

“I, uh…” he stumbled. “I was-”

Just as the vocals of truth came thronging to his lips, the front door opened with a distressing screech, diverting the attention of both Matthew and Stan to it. It was only seconds after, that the pair realised that the twins, who, simply by entering, obviously bearing an unkemptness akin to Matthew’s, had entered.

“Why’s it that runts some’ow attract each other…” mumbled Stan, opening the cash register to count the day’s earnings.

“Well, Grunkle Stan,” began Mabel, approaching the counter, with Dipper following suit, and Matthew circling around as well. “Great people do attract each other!”

“Suuuure,” he said with a heavy glint of irony as he finally pried his eyes from the stack of bills and instantly noticed all three of the adolescents’ worrisome conditions. “Yeesh, did all’a you get hit by a bus or something? Hah!”

Matthew, although wanting to retort to that outrageous proposition, saw that there was no point in finding solace in the exuberance of Stan, and decided to opt out of the conversation. He noticed that, for some reason, unbeknownst to him, both Dipper and Mabel also had the same idea - all of them felt equally as exhausted, he thought.

“Hey, uh, wait!” exclaimed Stan. “Wouldn’t’cha know it, I accidentally overstocked some inventory, so, why don’t each’a you take one item from the gift shop, y’know, on the house.”

“Really?” asked Mabel, in seeming awe.

“What’s the catch?” inquired Dipper, who was moreso in a state of dubious disbelief.

“The catch is do it before I change my mind,” he sternly said. “You too, kiddo. Somethin’ for your work the past few days,” he added, pointing to Matthew.

“Wow…” he replied. “Thanks, Mr. Pines!”  
  
“Whatever.”

All three scuttled about the various boxes laid out that had no doubt contained recently-acquisitioned stock, and analysed the plethora of trinkets inside of them, hoping to find something that suited them. Matthew looked around, and saw that Dipper had already found something to his liking, that being a hat coloured by a light blue and white, with a pine tree of the former colour, no less, on it. Poring through one of the more rugged boxes, he suddenly noticed something that incited his curiosity - a wrist watch. Although seeming like any other, what his curiosity truly resonated through was his pedanticity, for he noticed immediately on its dark blue wristband engraved a series of runes, possibly alluding to something of mystical character, or nothing at all. After all, he was looking through boxes that had previously been purchased by Stan, he thought, not coming up of any other reason.

“Hey, Matt,” called Stan. “Why’re ya rummagin’ in that old piece’a junk? You ain’t gonna find much there.”

“It’s alright, Mr. Pines,” he replied, grabbing the watch and strapping it on his hand. “I think I found what I wanted!”

“Really, kid?” he raised an eyebrow. “A borin’ old watch?”

“It’s not boring,” he argued. “Look,” he said, showcasing the runes.

Stan fixated his glasses and took a closer look at it. Then, shock befell his very soul, for the symbols Matthew had shown him looked almost identical, if not akin, to the ones engraved on the frame of the portal. He tried his best not to show any visible shock, and it took every fiber of his temperament not to do so.

“Y-yeah,” he stumbled and cleared his throat. “Piece’a junk, like I said.”

“But… can I keep it?” Matthew asked.

At that proposition, Stan bit his lip. On one hand, he didn’t care, since it was just a simple watch, and it wasn’t like handing it over to Matthew, despite the markings, would do any immediate harm - he could tell from a mile away, due to his experience, that its purpose was like any other, and that it didn’t carry any extras he could identify. But then again, he wondered, it had always been better to be safe than sorry when it came to anything related to his brother’s research. Not wanting to invoke anymore suspicion than he already has, he settled on handing it over to him, but checking and acting accordingly if it incited anything anomalous.

“Sure, if ya wanna weigh yourself down, that’s fine by me,” he finally answered.

“Than-”

“GRAPPLING HOOK!” interrupted Mabel from nearby, activating her newly-acquired item, and managing to grab the attention of both Stan and Matthew.

“Er, wouldn’t you rather have a doll, or somethin’?”

“Grappling hook.”

“Fair ‘nuff. ‘Least you aren’t as weird as Matt with a dang watch.”

“Hey!” exclaimed Matt, shooting a disapproving look at Stan’s way.

“Yeah ‘hey’, Grunkle Stan,” supported Mabel. “Watches are pretty darn cool!”

“I don’t mean that,” he countered. “I’m just tellin’ ya, if you’re gonna wear one, have it be good!”

“Like your eighteen-carat gold watches?” suddenly piped up Dipper, as all three encircled the counter.

“Uh… maybe,” replied Stan, getting a hunch at what Dipper was alluding to.

“That cost…?”

Stan darted his eyes left and right, unwilling to share that information.

“A’ight, fine, ya got me,” he finally admitted defeat.

“Wooo!” celebrated Mabel. “We beat Stan! What do we get?”

“About thirty seconds to run before I grab all’a these and put ‘em back in the boxes?” he answered with a mischievous smile as he pointed to the items.

“To be honest,” began Dipper with a slight smile. “I don’t know if you’re serious or joking."

“That’s the art of the craft, kid!” he replied with a wholehearted cackle, to which everyone felt at ease and shared in the joy.

Then, there was Matt. Although still puzzled by the reaction Stan had given him regarding the watch, he felt that he shouldn’t dwell on that currently and try to savour the wholesome moment. For all of his strife, all of his fighting tooth and nail to feel accepted, and all of his dealings with an interdimensional deity, only now did he feel, dare he think, truly happy. He also gave note to how, although for something seemingly minor as the views on the suitidness of his watch, his newfound friends defended him, without he himself even uttering a word in aid. Coupling it with everything that had happened earlier that day - his conversation with Stan, his interactions with the twins and his culminating dream - he honestly struggled to hold tears of unbridled joy as to why and how he had managed to stumble on such an extraordinary place at such a dreaded time in his life and if he had really deserved all that he had been given.

He didn’t know and, if he were to be frank, he really didn’t care now, for he had more important things to be doing than trying to decode his feelings for the hundredth time.

Finally, discreetly wiping his eyes, he put on a broad smile and revelled in the delight with the others.


End file.
